Personal Record
by therentyoupay
Summary: The life and love of running, autumn, and high school cross-country. — Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra, Mako/Asami, one-sided Bolin/Korra. AU.
1. one

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.  
**Pairing: **Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra, one-sided Bolin/Korra  
**Genre: **Romance/Friendship/Drama  
**Word Count: **8,143  
**Rating: **PG-13/T  
**Summary: **The life and love of running, autumn, and cross-country. — Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra. AU.

**Author's Notes:** Like with _Bros & Broomball _and _Equal Pay_, I'd love to one day continue this. :P Eventually. But for right now it remains a two-shot to be completed... whenever.

As my undergrad graduation steadily approaches, I am looking more and more on my high school days with softer eyes. And of course, autumn always brings out an especially wistful side of me.

This is dedicated to all of my fellow runners out there, to all of the x-country runners, and especially anyone who has experienced the breathtaking beauty of fall in New England.

**Musical Inspiration:** "Bloom" by Paper Kites, "We're going to Be Friends" by the White Stripes, and "The Wolves" by Ben Howard.

Beta'd by the ever-reliable **ebonyquill**. :)

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**1**

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_She wondered  
if she were a leaf floating in the wind,  
where would she end up?_

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_What if she never landed at all?_

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"Korra, are you listening to me?" came a very distressed voice from beside her.

Korra jerked, as if flinging herself awake, and tore her gaze from outside the small, dusty windows of the school bus. Bolin was looking at her, his expression alert and his body practically bouncing in his seat. _He's the kind of guy who's going to make wearing school bus seat belts mandatory one of these days. _

"Korra!"

"Sorry," she coughed. "What?"

"I was _saying_ that you completely blew their mind! Seriously, that was amazing! You're a natural. Coach Tenzin will make you Varsity for sure!"

Korra blinks. "But I just got here," she replied. "Aren't I supposed to have some seniority or something? And I know barely anything about the sport."

"Maybe seniority means something in other schools, but here it's 'if you're fast, you're fast'. And you are definitely fast! Seriously! What's your P.R.?"

"My P—_what_?"

"Your personal record," Bolin gestured wildly, as if he could almost taste the numbers. Too bad she didn't have them.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I've never really been much of a runner before."

"Never been—much of a—what? _How_?" Bolin sputtered. "Impossible! You must have done _some_ kind of running sport!"

Korra wondered if ice fishing was something Bolin would consider a sport at all. "Nope. Today was my first race."

"But what about at your old high school?"

Korra hid her wince. "I... was home-schooled until this year."

"Whoah, really?" Bolin looked on, surprised. "But you seem so normal!" Korra shot him a rather questioning brow, and Bolin backpedaled rapidly. "I didn't mean—I just thought—"

"It's okay," Korra waved off the rest of his apology attempt. "I know what you mean. I get it." He looked like he was about to go on, and while Korra appreciated that he was trying to make sure she wasn't offended, she really wasn't in the mood to talk about it. "I only ever did hiking and then some... rock-climbing on the side. I did a little Copoeira for a while too, but eventually didn't have enough time for it."

"Hiking! Rock-climbing! Man, you do the coolest stuff," Bolin beamed at her, and Korra could feel the heart inside of her chest beginning to put itself back together again. _You know_, she thought. _Maybe I've been thinking about this place all wrong_.

"Thanks," Korra smiled, feeling a little lighter than she did, say, fifteen minutes ago. "You know, it _is_ pretty cool. I've been really lucky."

"And now _we're_ lucky to have you!" Bolin elbowed her playfully, scooting lower into his seat to join her. He wasn't as careful with his knees though, and one of their teammates immediately turned around to send Bolin a mild glare for stabbing he and his seat partner in the back. Bolin quickly ushered out another hasty apology, at which point Korra was sent into a quiet fit of laughter, and the next thing she knew, he and the other teammate ahead of them were play-wrestling around the edge of the narrow aisle. With a final burst of laughter, Korra pulled on his arm to move him from the fray, and the teammates in front of them turned back around to face forward, teasing Bolin good-naturedly about how he'd already stabbed too many people in the back this season and how he was going to pay for it eventually.

"I see that you make friends rather easily," Korra joked, but only because she thought it was very, very true.

Bolin laughed, but it gave Korra pause; it sounded almost sheepish, especially with the way he was rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, well. You know how it goes."

_No_, _actually, _Korra thought to herself. _I'm not sure I do._

She didn't respond, but Bolin quickly resumed their topic, anyway. She forced herself to keep smiling throughout the whole conversation, all the while clinging onto the little bit of light that was trying to enter back into her system after what just happened twenty minutes ago. It wasn't something she wanted to talk about... and _definitely _not with Bolin.

"I meant what I said earlier, you know," Bolin continued on. "After the way you ran today, there's no way Coach will have any excuse _not _toconsider pushing you up for the top seven!"

While Korra was pretty sure she agreed, she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about it just yet. She hadn't yet told anybody that _Coach Tenzin _was actually _Uncle Tenzin, _though not exactly in the biological sense. Even so, she wasn't really certain that she wanted anyone to find out. Besides, Korra knew on some level that she was pretty fast, but for these kids running was placed on an entirely different level; it was a completely different world to her. Did she really want to get shifted up? She'd only joined the team at Tenzin's insistence, and rather reluctantly at that. Plus, it'd only been three weeks into school and she was already feeling the fullness of her plate. Not to mention...

A soft laugh trickled down the aisle from the back of the bus, swerving in and around the chattering student athletes with freakishly perfect aim, as if the voice's owner had set the course specifically for Korra's sensitive ears alone. It was paranoia, of course, because one, it had only been three weeks and _two_, Asami wasn't the kind of girl to do that sort of thing.

At least, Korra hoped not.

Regardless, she slumped down even farther down into the seat, shifting her knees into the backrest in front of her and feeling the rough pleather vinyl drag along her skin as she tried to get more comfortable.

"I mean, you were working really hard for this, right? To be a Varsity runner with the rest of us? It's what you wanted, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yeah," she muttered to Bolin, plastering on what she hoped looked like a thoughtful smile. With any luck, he'd just peg her as tired. "That'd be... cool."

* * *

That night, at Tenzin's prodding, Korra went for an easy run. In the end, she didn't follow the stretching routine that he'd also recommended, although she told him otherwise, and instead spent that time laying out in the prickly grass of their backyard in the chilly, evening air.

She watched the sun whisk away into dusk and thought about how funny life could be. For example, it was funny how you could sometimes delude yourself into thinking that the boy you liked felt the same way about you. It was even funnier when it turned out that this boy, this captain of the Boys' Varsity team, already had a girlfriend, who—big surprise—was captain of the Girls'.

It was funny because she'd always heard about all of those So-Cal kids in the movies and on TV shows who came to the Northeast and went on and on about the first time they'd ever seen the snow. For someone who had spent most of her life traveling through craggy cliffs and snow-capped mountains and blue-iced glaciers, a few layers snowflakes didn't really seem like they'd be worth all the fuss.

Korra laid on her back in the yard, feeling the chilly autumn breeze, and watched the green leaves tinged with yellow rustle in the wind.

But eventually, Aunt Pema called her in for dinner and she picked herself up, leaving the leaves behind.

* * *

The next day at school wasn't as awkward as it could have been, though Korra thought that it might have been largely due to how forcefully she and Mako avoided each other during practice.

Her homework was stacked high on her desk, but Korra couldn't seem to remove herself from her bed. The desk was certainly nice enough; a secondhand wooden piece that Pema had thoughtfully picked up for her at a yard sale the weekend before she arrived, with just the right amount of character and drawer space that Korra could appreciate. For some reason, however, Korra's body just didn't want to leave the space of her bed. It wasn't particularly warm or soft since she had left the window open all day, but she was still sprawled out over it and she couldn't really find it within herself to move.

Until a chime from her cell phone had her glance toward the windowsill, anyway. It was Bolin, asking if she wanted to hang out that weekend.

She flipped the phone shut, feeling the cover shutter back over the keypad in sync with her heart, and gently tapped the brand logo with her fingernails.

Without warning, Korra sat up, retied the laces on her sneakers, and left through the backdoor.

She was running before she hit the sidewalk.

* * *

"Hey, Bolin?"

There was a pause as a voice sounded from the receiver.

"Yeah, I'd really like that. What about Saturday after the big meet?"

* * *

"You nervous?"

"What?" Korra nearly snapped. She was nothing more than a giant bundle of twisted nerves, but that didn't stop her from looking Asami straight in the eye and saying, "Of course not. Just, you know, pumping myself up."

Asami smiled thoughtfully, giving her a very knowing look, and Korra's stomach somersaulted twice over. She told herself that it was probably just because she was still bouncing in place, trying to get out all of her nervous energy, trying to keep warm, but she knew that she probably wasn't doing a very good job of fooling anybody anymore. And especially not Asami. Especially not if Mako had mentioned anything about what happened a few days before when—

"It's okay to be a little nervous, you know," Asami smiled considerately. "We _all_ were during our first big meets. Don't worry, you're gonna do great."

Korra wanted to say something after that, anything to tell Asami that she was wrong, that she didn't _need _any sort of pep talk, but the idyllic captain was already making her way through the throngs of the rest of their team, pumping the other girls up and leading a few active stretches. Korra tried to follow along eventually, but she just couldn't focus on feeling the warmth in her muscles. Her mind was such a jumble of thoughts that she had to wonder if she might be doing them more harm than good.

_What's wrong with you? _she thought lowly, already feeling short of breath. _You're Korra. This is supposed to be easy. You eat challenges for breakfast. _

But before she knew it, she was being called forward to the line, and the gun went off.

* * *

"I _told _you!" Bolin shouted, clapping her on the back and jumping high into the air with a whoop. "Fifty-third place! Now that's what I'm talking about."

"What are you saying?" Korra rasped between breaths. The stitch in her side was burning and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't trying to visualize whether or not this might be what having appendicitis might feel like. "It's _fifty_-third, Bolin."

"Uh, _yeah_, out of more than two hundred!" he exclaims, taking her by the elbow to lead her farther away from the finish line's chute. "This is your first big meet and what will surely be your first time running as a Varsity team member—this is so not a bad thing!"

"Did I qualify then?" Korra asked aloud. "Was I one of the first seven on our team to make it across?"

"You'd have to be!" Bolin assured her. "With how fast I saw you run on Wednesday, I'd be willing to be money on it."

Korra curled over, placing her hands on her knees to catch her breath, and looked up at him with a burgeoning smile. She tried to ignore the beads of sweat dripping into her eyes, but she still ended up squinting at him, just a bit. "Really?"

"Really," he nodded. "You know, we can go check the listings right now. Your chip should have connected to the tracker automatically. If you're really that curious about it, we can go see."

"But don't you have to go get ready for your own race?" Korra asked, slowly inching her way back upright. Crap. Did her stitch just switch sides?

"I've got a half hour before Mako will start to get frantic," Bolin waved dismissively, and Korra's smile faltered momentarily. Luckily, Bolin was already leading the way before he caught sight of her slip.

They had to trek halfway across the grounds to get to the results table, and by the time they reached the score listings, Korra was already starting to feel good about how things had gone. Bolin kept her entertained with all sorts of information about what to expect at the restaurant that he was taking her to that night and soon the stitch in her side was completely unrelated to her performance. Also, she hadn't thrown up at any point during the race, although she had passed by at least one or two other girls who had, _plus_ she wasn't even all that banged up. She could just imagine her mom's face when she went home that night and wrote her an e-mail. It would be the first time in years that she could say that she'd come home from an outing and didn't have at least twelve black-and-blue bruises to show for—

"Oh," Bolin said quietly. His face had fallen as soon as his finger had come to rest along one of the lines on the paper. Something within Korra twisted. She didn't dare look away from Bolin's profile.

"What is it?" Bolin's hand slipped away from the chart in front of him, falling limply to his side, and she knew what he was going to say before he even looked at her. Korra straightened her stance, lifting her chin high. "What place did I get?" she asked carefully, carelessly, already determined to brush it off.

Luckily, Bolin seemed more than ready to play along. "I guess the runners are a bit more prepared this year. There are a lot of really good times on here that we aren't as used to seeing."

"What place on the team, Bolin?" He started making his way back to the start-up line and Korra followed, promising herself that she would go back and see the times for herself while he was out running through the wooded portion of the race. "Bolin, just tell me, I can—"

"Twelfth," he replied, unable to completely keep his voice clear of apology. Korra blinked.

_Twelfth._

"Well," she muttered. "So much for making Varsity this soon into the year, huh?"

"I'm sorry for getting your—"

"Save it," Korra swiftly shook her head. "It's my first race. Don't worry about it. I'll get 'em next time. But you still have to run yours, so get your butt in gear and get over there before your stick-in-the-mud brother gives himself a hernia."

Bolin offered her a bright, cheeky grin, a mock-salute, and: "Sí, sí, _Se__ñ__orita_. As long as you escort me to the battle grounds?"

"So long as you don't ever butcher Spanish like that again," she laughed.

Bolin looked surprised. "You speak Spanish?"

Korra shrugged. "Enough to get by."

She wasn't sure how she felt about him smiling at her like that, like she was something special or different. She'd never had any qualms about getting a little spotlight before... but then, perhaps it had less to do with the way she was being looked at and more to do with _who _was doing the looking.

Speaking of.

"Bolin," Korra began, feeling more than a little strange for bringing this up. At first she'd thought she was just imagining things, but the closer they'd gotten back to the warm-up line, the more Korra realized that there was definitely a group of kids eyeing them, walking just a little ways off to the side. And they weren't exactly sending the friendliest looks.

"Hey," Korra began again, dropping her voice low. "Who's that creepy guy over there who keeps glaring at us?"

Not to mention the posse that was following him. _And talk about taking school jerseys to the next level. _The whole group was decked out in black and silver, all lean muscles and long limbs. Korra could practically see the high price tags of their mesh uniforms from yards away. There were only a couple of runners in the group from the looks of it and the rest were dressed in street clothes. _Who are they? Fan girls?_

Bolin glanced over to where Korra was openly looking, but immediately turned away. "Ohh, man," he intoned, low and deep. "That's Tahno and the Wolverines, the reigning champs, three years running. Don't make eye contact."

"What's so special about them?" Korra asked aloud, not bothering to maintain Bolin's level of caution. She let her eyes trail over the shiny uniforms, the giggling groupies, and the stern, smirking faces of the boys in the top-notch spandex. _Huh_, she scoffed. The other school's runners were still walking alongside them, separated only by a mere five meters or so and the occasional group of passersby trickling in between, but Bolin was determined to look anywhere else. The leader of the pack, however—the Tahno guy—kept sending over glances that send her spine crawling.

"Oh, you know, the usual," Bolin scoffed, and Korra was surprised to hear a trail of bitterness creep into his tone. "Fancy private school, fancy funding, fancy overpaid coach... Essentially everything you'd expect from a school that gets by on paying people off rather than its own merit."

Korra looked closely at Bolin then, carefully, as if she were seeing him in a new light. She'd never heard Bolin talk this way before. She was just about to tell him so, just about to consider this new, solid Bolin that she'd never really noticed before, when:

"Uh-oh, here he comes," Bolin muttered, picking up his pace ever-so-slightly. "Now don't mess with this guy, he's a nasty dude."

Korra turned back to see what Bolin meant, but Tahno was already beside her.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Fire Ferrets. The tri-state region's saddest excuse for a team," he drawled, never once breaking his stride. Behind him, the girls tittered and giggled, and the boys in uniform exchanged smirking glances over their shoulders.

"It's the Fire Foxes, thank you," Korra sniped, continuing forward. She didn't follow Bolin's lead and quicken her pace, however; she was in no rush to get to the starting line, and she wasn't about to let a pack of scrawny weasels chase her there.

"Which is almost worse, when you think about it," he continued, his voice—sleazy, sleazy, sleazy—sounding for all the world to be good-natured, if not for the serrated blade lying underneath it. Korra breathed deeply, keeping her focus forward. "You know there's a problem when a team's mascot is outshone by an internet browser."

"Better than a mascot known for scavenging the dead carcasses of animals it was too weak to pick off itself," Korra snapped.

A few muffled feminine gasps from the left gave Korra the most delicious, vindictive pleasure, but she held onto her smirk for later. Tahno scoffed. "I don't know if anybody's gotten around to telling you this yet, new girl, but that's how this sport works." Korra could feel him facing her more fully now, but she kept walking, eyes on the hordes of start-up runners just ahead. "You win by picking off the rest of the competition, passing the weaker, slower runners... one-by-one-by-one."

"Is it now?" she quipped."Well, I'm sure blinding your competitors with the especially reflective quality of your uniforms comes in handy. In fact, I wouldn't be all that surprised if you were caught staring into it like a mirror, distracted by the sight of your own ridiculous hairstyle."

She could hear one of the girls huffing on his behalf, but Tahno merely let the smirk spread wider across his face. "Tell me," he said smoothly, and Korra felt the goosebumps raise along her bare arms. _Stupid wind_, she simmered, walking ahead with purposeful strides. They were almost to the start-up point, but Tahno was still going. "How did a couple of amateur couch-to-5K runners like you manage to stick around for this long? Especially _you_, new girl."

_Keep walking_, she breathed.

"You know, if you'd like to learn how an _elite_ runner trains, I could give you some... _private_ lessons."

Korra stopped in her tracks. Bolin and the rest of the Wolverines' seemingly mute posse stumbled over themselves, caught off guard by the sudden halt, but not Tahno; he was already there, waiting for her, hovering right above, right where he thought he could intimidate her most. _You wanna bet?_

"You wanna go toe-to-toe with me, pretty boy?" she crossed her arms, glaring up into his stupid eyes.

"Go for it," he encouraged. "That is, if you can think of a way to get around the fact that my body is naturally equipped to be the superior runner."

Korra could feel her grip growing almost painful on her arms, her fingernails squeezing into her biceps with surprising strength, when Bolin cut in. "Korra, don't," he whispered. "He's just trying to bait you. If you hit him, we're out of the meet. The whole team."

Korra couldn't quite seem to hear him. She knew that there were words and that Bolin had said them, but that was about all she could gather. All she knew was that Tahno the Wolverine was standing right there in front of her, over her, leering down at her race-flushed face with something akin to intrigue, and that she wasn't going to be the first to back down.

But then the ten-minute warning whistle cut through the air and Korra nearly jumped at the sound. Tahno blinked and, just like that, the spell was broken.

"Crap, Korra, we got to get over there," Bolin urged from behind her. Tahno spared a glance to her teammate, eyes flickering with some easy-to-guess look of condescension that made Korra's toes curl with anger, and then back to hers.

"Looks like we'll have to cut the fun short, new girl," he straightened, keeping her eyes hooked on his as he leant back. "Be sure to keep an eye out for me when the runners cross the finish line," he said, releasing a laugh so deep and low that it seemed to spread across the grass. "It shouldn't be too difficult."

And with that, he turned and fluidly walked away, his company always in tow. A few of the girls sent her scathing looks from over their shoulders, but she paid them no mind; it was all she could do to not chase after Tahno and sucker-punch him to the ground. _Then we'll see whose body is better naturally equipped, huh?_

"Uhh, Korra?"

"_What_, Bolin?"

"I don't really get what you just said, and I'm not sure I really want to know, but we _really _need to get going."

Korra looked up, dazed, to where Bolin stood right beside her. He was staring at her warily, not quite sure what he should be doing, but she could tell that he was anxious to get started with the rest of the team.

"Oh, crap!" Korra exclaimed. "Bolin, I'm sorry! Quick, get over there!"

Bolin and Korra broke out into a light jog, making their way to the nearest entry point, box six, which is where the Fire Fox boys were located. Mako was leading the rest of the boys through a series of warm-up routines, but he was looking straight at them.

And he did not look happy.

"Bolin!" he shouted. "Where were you?"

"Sorry, man, I just—"

"The team started ten minutes ago," Mako interrupted, eyes hard. "If you're going to trash-talk the competition, you better make sure you can carry your weight on the course. And you do that by prepping with the rest of your team when you're supposed to."

"I know, it's just—"

"And you," Mako turned to a surprised Korra, who recoiled slightly from the genuine anger she saw in his expression. "You already had your race. Get back with the rest of the girls' team behind the barrier to watch."

Korra opened her mouth to protest, or at least to call him out on his bossy rudeness, but Bolin sent a pleading look at her from where he was now doing burpees on the ground, and Korra was left standing stock-still in the swirling chaos of all of the moving bodies around her. Just as she had formed the words on the tip of her tongue, a voice called out to her from behind.

"Come on, Korra!" her captain cried cheerfully. "Back here! We're going to go for a cool-down run—but first, let's cheer our boys on!"

Biting her tongue so hard that she thought she might lose it, Korra turned on her heel, feeling her spikes ripping into the cold, solid ground. She pushed her way past the flimsy barrier ribbon until she was standing alongside the rest of her cheering teammates, all of whom were calling out to the men on their team with waving hands and high-pitched voices.

Korra couldn't bring herself to shout out to Bolin or to any of the other guys representing her school—guhh, Mako, why did she have to be so _stupid_?—as they all lined up along the white spray paint in the grass. In fact, she was mostly grateful that she'd been able to keep quiet at all, instead of hurling herself into an hour-long rampage, which was mostly what she felt like doing. She stood among the cheering teenagers, realizing not for the first time in many days that she still had no idea how to act around so many people her age all at once. There was still so much about the science and structure of the high school social system that she simply didn't understand. She almost preferred the glaciers.

She almost felt alone.

And on an instinct that she wasn't yet totally ready to describe, Korra looked up. Not at box six, but at box one.

There was Tahno, staring back at her.

They held gazes for a full eternity, the cheers of the spectators and the sound of her pounding heart ringing loudly in her ears, and she scarcely breathed. Then, in the split-second before the gun went off, Tahno faced forward, eyes fierce, and he was off.

The gunshot echoed through her ribcage and shocked the breath back into her lungs.

* * *

When Tahno was the first to cross the finish line, Korra didn't bother to make up much of a creative excuse for not wanting to stick around for the awards ceremony. Bolin came in third overall, so most of her team lagged behind at the podium. She sent him a wave from the outskirts of the crowd and a thumbs-up when he had gotten sight of her.

Then she finished tying up her street shoes, put on her hoodie, and headed back onto the bus early to wait.

* * *

"You know," his deep voice filled up the whole space of the car. "If you decide that this isn't for you, you don't have to do it."

Korra frowned, her furrowed brow smudging against what used to be a clean window. "Are you saying I'm no good at it?"

"That's not what I was saying at all," Tenzin sighed, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "I just mean that if you try cross-country, and you give it your all, but you still decide that it's not what your passionate about, then I'd rather that you do something that will be better for you."

"I already know what I'm passionate about," Korra muttered after a beat.

Tenzin sighed again, feeling a heavy weight settle onto his shoulders. "The mountains of Patagonia are no place for someone aspiring to get a college degree. All that time in the Tierra del Fuego and your education is—"

"My parents taught me just fine, thank you."

The car was cold and still; Tenzin wasn't the kind of person who liked to listen to anything made by composers who were still alive and Korra wasn't the kind of person who had the kind of patience needed for classical music.

"Do you have any plans for the evening?" Tenzin asked quietly, deciding that a change in topic was probably the safest bet.

Korra sighed, feeling even heavier than before. "Bolin's gonna take me to this place he found down the highway later."

"Bolin?" Tenzin sounded confused. "But what about—"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Tenzin paused, considering the implications, then nodded sagely. "Very well, then."

The rest of the car ride home was silent and for that, Korra was grateful.

* * *

Only Korra never ended up going.

She was halfway through her shower when it hit her; she realized what it was that she really wanted to do, right then, more than anything.

One apologetic phone call and a messy, half-real excuse about family obligations later, Korra was free for the evening. She left a note to Tenzin and Pema and the kids for if they got home before her, just in case, and tore off down the sidewalk, running.

According to the map she'd searched online beforehand, it was at least three miles before she reached her destination: a wide open arboretum in the middle of what Korra thought was considered pretty much a forest anyway. She didn't get why they'd slap a fancy title and some pretty stone walls around one section of nature and leave the rest of it out to dry, but she figured that was probably for the civil engineers to decide, and not for the girl who spent most of her life growing up in the wilderness in either an igloo or a hut.

She kept running, even after her legs started to burn. She'd run a 5K only that morning and she should have been taking it easy, being a novice runner and all, but Korra didn't care. She passed through gates, spun through falling leaves, sprinted up and over bridges and along winding pathways. In the back of her mind, it occurred to Korra that she was going to have to run all the way back, that she was probably going to have to actually stretch that night unless she wanted some serious muscle tightness the next day, but she let all of those thoughts go. She was just Korra. She was running.

Soon she came across a wide open pathway entirely housed under at least half a mile of glowing, bright red leaves. Korra slowed her pace, staring up in awe at the colors surrounding her, completely drawn by the beauty and the peace of the moment until she had come to a total stop. It couldn't compare to standing at the precipice of a glacier, of course, Korra's mind hurriedly compared. Obviously not.

But still.

There was _something_...

Something there.

Korra snapped her head downward, immediately assuming a defensive stance. She stiffened, eyeing the figure across the way with narrowed eyes.

"Whoah," he said lowly, quickly holding up his hands; he somehow managed to provoke her _and_ to shrink back away from her in the very same breath. "Calm your horses, new girl."

Korra released a quick huff, letting the flood of adrenaline flush itself out as she lowered her guard. _Well, maybe __this__ energy will help my abused muscles, at least_... But then the _fight or flight _left her, and it occurred to her who was standing just a few feet down the path.

"Tahno," she announced disdainfully. "What are you doing here?"

He narrowed his eyes. "It's a public park. And if you'd take a second to look around you before trying to go all Kung Fu on people, you'd see that I'm here for the same reason as you."

Mistrustfully, she glanced down, only to see that he was wearing a basic gray t-shirt and some long, dark black shorts. His sneakers were muddy, just like hers.

"I don't get it," Korra crossed her arms. "What are you doing all the way out _here_?"

Tahno shook his head quickly, as if waving off an irritating fly. "Have you bothered to check a map since you moved here? Do you even know where White Falls is?"

Korra frowned more forcefully. "Dude, it's not exactly like it was on my to-do list."

He scoffed and crossed his arms in turn. "It's a neighboring district," he explained, tiredly, as if shehad _asked_ for an explanation. "The border cuts through this park."

A moment of awkward silence passed, in which Korra and Tahno stood before one another, arms crossed, without much of anything else to say.

"Swell," Korra mumbled. "Well, thanks for the geography lesson or whatever. I'll be going now."

"Hold up," Tahno turned, facing her as she tried to pass him. "How far did you run to get out here? Your school district is across town and your school choice zone is all the way on the other side of that."

She faltered. "That's awfully creepy of you to know," she bit out, squaring her shoulders.

Leave it to the creepy guy to be way too informed about school zones... and about which school zone she _should _have belonged to, you know, had she not been living with Tenzin's family on Temple Street instead.

"Creepy?" Tahno scoffed, taking another step. Korra didn't shift back, but instead dug her heel deeper into the ground. Although Tahno was considering her carefully, he didn't seem to notice her discomfort. Or care. "You really haven't been running for very long, have you?"

"What's that got to do with anything?" she demanded, back on the defensive.

Tahno eyed her thoughtfully, his shifty mind visibly churning behind his gaze... and then he released a laugh. Apparently, Korra noted with annoyance, something was rather funny. She had obviously missed it, and so she waited, warily.

"A runner explores," he snidely explained. "Sooner or later, running around familiar territory isn't good enough anymore. You get to know your neighbors' pretty well."

Korra waited for another comment, perhaps something scathing or incendiary—or even something of the same arrogant, sexist nature that she experienced earlier that day—but nothing came. She cocked her head to the side slightly, wondering at how visibly relaxed his stance was. Had he looked this at ease when she first looked up at him just a few minutes ago? He certainly hadn't looked like this at the meet this morning.

"So you're saying that you like to trespass on Fire Fox turf every once in a while?" she jabbed, but without any real animosity. Believe it, she tried, but... there was something about the leaves, she mused. It was hard to feel anything but calm amidst the fire of the leaves.

Tahno shrugged, a smirk slowly curling the edges of his lips, and confessed, "Only when I think the scenery is worthwhile."

"Duly noted," Korra said quietly. The truth was that she was barely paying him any attention anymore; she was suddenly very much captivated by the total, utter peace surrounding them. She was almost hesitant to break it. It wasn't long before her eyes caught sight of the trees above her once more and she stared up at the fiery canopy, gaping openly, Tahno or no Tahno. She could still feel him standing beside her, could feel when he took one step closer, but she paid him no mind. _How long will it take for all the leaves to fall?_

"Where are you from?" he asked.

_Now there's a loaded question._

But instead of answering, she asked one of her own, her eyes always on the leaves above. "Who told you it was ever a good idea to ask something like that before asking for a person's name?"

She could actually hear him laugh beneath his breath, just as soft as the rustling leaves. "I already know yours, Korra."

Her head snapped down so quickly, she almost felt dizzy. But then again, that could have also been from her mounting frustration. "You _knew_? And yet you still called me 'new girl' all day?"

"Well," he faltered, a little unnerved by the sudden flash of anger in her eyes. "I didn't _know _until after I checked the result rosters." Unfortunately, his answer only stoked the flames even more, because it meant that he, Tahno of the White Falls Wolverines, number one finisher in the first big meet of the season, incredible creep and most dedicated jerk of the tri-state area, had seen her lousy placement.

"And that's _not _creepy_?_" she demanded, already shifting to start running away, to flee before he could make any comments about her horrible time.

"Whoah," he called after her, before striding into place at her side as she jogged down the path. "That's _public_ knowledge."

"What are you doing?" Korra demanded again, glancing out of the corner of her eye to where he was running alongside her.

"What does it _look _like I'm doing?" Tahno retorted, though honestly, to Korra it looked like he was trying to come up with an answer just as much for himself as he was for her.

"I didn't ask for a running buddy, you know."

"Who said this wasn't a race?"

"Even _you _wouldn't be stupid enough to challenge somebody after having just had a meet this morning."

"Maybe if the opponent was slow enough, I could take the risk."

"Well, _I'm _not willing."

She could feel the smirk growing wider across his face. "Oh, yeah?"

Korra scoffed, willing her legs to go faster to just _lose _him already. "I'm not chicken."

"Could have fooled me."

"Just because it's not today doesn't mean that I'm not going to be up for it _later_. Besides, I still have a bone to pick with you about the crap you said earlier."

"By all means, pick away."

"Oh, no," Korra jabbed a finger into his shoulder. Hard. "I came out here for a quiet run through the park. Not to get all worked up by beating a sexist, chauvinistic asshole into the ground."

Tahno's brows rose, but he kept their pace. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me."

A puzzled brow. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Korra scoffed. She didn't come out here to play feminist educator. She just wanted to run. "Whatever. I've still got some ground to cover and I'm not interested in having a conversation the whole way."

Tahno's jaw tightened, but he didn't leave her side. "Well, don't let _me_ stop you."

_Don't worry._

She glared at him from her peripheral vision, hard, but was determined to ignore him, and so she said nothing.

_I won't._

Soon the frustration gave way to the peace of the park, and Korra was able to block out his irritating presence completely. They ran in silence for some minutes, breathing deep, measured breaths as they circled through the perimeter of the park's inner walls. They started small, following the paths around the small ponds, then worked their way into the muddy trails through the public garden plots, ducking under and around wide, still-green branches of foliage from the owners' neglectful care. When they came across a thick patch of trees, Korra made a move to follow the path that swerved around, but barreled straight into Tahno's shoulder. Surprised, Korra glared at the sleeve of his offending t-shirt, wondering why on earth it had thought to move in her way. When she looked up into his face, Tahno was nodding toward the thicket of trees, glancing back at her with a question in his eyes. Korra simply stared, confused, until he broke out his typical smug expression and made a beeline for the underbrush of the trees. With a jolt, Korra jerked up, and followed him.

It only occurred to her several hours later that this would have been the perfect opportunity for her to have finally split.

They zig-zagged through the trees, ducking under branches and jumping over gnarly roots. The leapt across streams and balanced over fallen, mossy logs and scrambled up shallow river banks, and before Korra knew it, she was laughing. She had only a vague idea of their direction, but Tahno seemed familiar enough with the area off the path and they always stayed within the confines of the park. There was a breeze in her hair, small branches catching her skin as she sprinted through them, the golden, soon-to-be setting sun shining down through the canopy of yellow and orange trees overhead, and—

She was definitely winning.

Korra was at a full-out run—lungs heaving, legs burning, stomach tumbling, throat rasping—by the time she made it out into the open clearing, the red, wooden bridge _just _a few steps farther. Korra could hear herself cackling like a maniac—oxygen deprivation, deprivation_, deprivation_—but he was still probably picking himself up after taking such a heavy fall over that tree root and she wasn't about to let him take back one second of her advantage. The few final steps leading up to the bridge were torturous, so much that she wanted to collapse on the ground right then and there on the grass, but she kept going, right up until the point when she ran straight into the wooden railing, nearly hurling over the side into the shallow creek as she broke her run.

Gasping for air and ignoring the metallic taste in her mouth, she remained like that for a few short moments. She stayed absolutely still, trying to catch her breath and calm her head, and then came the sound of someone bursting from the trees, the sound she had been waiting for. Korra slowly unrolled herself upward, a huge smile plastered over her face as she gazed onward, watching him slow his pace as he looked up and saw her already waiting there at the bridge.

She stumbled forward onto the stepping stones, feeling rather dizzy, and every cell in her blood was calling out to brag.

"_That_," he rasped, breathing heavily. "Was cheating."

But Korra just shook her head, the smile set firmly across her lips, and watched him near the grassy clearing because she simply didn't have the lung capacity for much else.

"You _knew _that tree root was there," he accused, finally reaching her. He didn't actually look all that intimidating, what with his hair disheveled and his face flushed and the beads of sweat gathering at his temples. He didn't even seem all that angry. She told herself the only reason she looked for so long was just to be sure.

"I'm the new girl, remember?" she quipped in between ragged breaths. Really, she had to admit that she was rather impressed; after _all that_, how on earth did he still have the ability to speak as easily as he did? "I don't know anything about anything apparently."

"You had to have cheated," he declared once more, trying to narrow his eyes back into something serious, but to Korra the effect was already lost.

"Yeah, well, whenever you figure out how, let me know," she muttered offhandedly, waving a dismissive hand. And with that, she plopped down onto the grass just off to the side, and let herself sprawl.

"What are you doing?" she heard his voice from above. At some point, she'd let her eyelids swing shut, and now she was simply laying there, still on the grass with the sunshine on her face.

"What does it _look _like I'm doing?"

There was a moment of uncertainty, a beat of decision, a shuffling of fabric, and then he was laying down on the ground beside her. Korra released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

And for a few minutes, there was only quiet.

"You seem... different," Korra observed.

Tahno shrugged. "I lost."

"No, I mean... it's almost like you're a different person. From the meet."

Tahno turned his head slightly, looking at the space above her out of the corner of his eye. "Is that supposed to be a good thing or a bad thing?"

"A confusing thing. How is it that you can speak to me right now so calmly and civilly—well, mostly—but this morning you were _so_...?"

"The moments before a race bring out different sides of us, I guess."

"A different _side_?" Korra asked incredulously, twisting to face him more fully. "Try a different personality!"

Tahno looked at her then, thrown by the intensity of the feeling she put into her words. "I—"

"I would never have known, you know," Korra tried again, a little more steadily. "About you being able to be like this, like... a semi-decent person. And it's not like I'm even actually positive about that part just yet, but the point is I would have kept on thinking that you were nothing more than a misogynistic, arrogant—"

"Whoah, what?"

"But I'm starting to get how these high school social cliques work," Korra admitted quietly, and perhaps a tad wistfully, in a show of uncharacteristic vulnerability. "You act one way with your team, but another way in private, right?"

"Well," Tahno hesitated, momentarily caught by the implications of _private_. "I guess it kind of goes for all parts of your life. You adapt to the people that surround you."

"What a stupid system," she groused, flinging a pebble at a nearby trashcan. Tahno laughed—a disarming, easy sort of laugh—and when Korra looked down, she almost forgot what they had been talking about; she was pretty sure she wasn't supposed to, but she liked his smile.

"Welcome to high school?" he tried, voice thick with amusement. "And you know, you're not so bad when you're not trying to play it tough."

Korra smirked. "I don't _play _tough; I am." He rolled his eyes, looking back to the sky, but then Korra thought about it for a minute, and said:

"You know, you're no so bad right now either."

"Oh, yeah?" Tahno's smooth voice questioned, gliding through the air. "So does that mean I get a congratulations on my win today?"

She rolled onto her side, propped herself up by an elbow, and smiled. "Not until you congratulate mine."

After a moment, Tahno huffed out another laugh. "Fair enough, I guess."

Korra waited. "So where is it?"

He shifted toward her then, just slightly, and Korra wondered at how comfortable it all felt: to be lying in the cold grass next to a boy she'd only met—and detested—a few hours earlier.

To finally feel like she wasn't doing something wrong.

"I'll give you yours when you've earned it," he told her.

"Then it looks like we're at an impasse," she announced gravely, still unable to hide the hint of a smile from her eyes. "I'll have to withhold yours until you can convince me otherwise."

"Don't worry," he smirked from below. "We've got all season."

And then Korra realized:

_Yeah. We do._

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_How far could one fly before the fall?_

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	2. two

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.  
**Pairing(s): **Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra, one-sided Bolin/Korra  
**Genre: **Romance/Friendship/Drama  
**Word Count: **5,702  
**Rating: **PG-13/T  
**Summary: **The life and love of running, autumn, and high school cross-country. — Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra. AU.  
**Author's Notes:** _10/29/12._ I just have to say that it's nice to finally be able to write a little bit about what I've seen in my travels... and to have it fit so nicely with Korra's background is such a plus. Also, if you're one of those affected by Hurricane Sandy, I hope you stay dry and safe and warm!

Oh, yeah... this is not longer a two-shot. It will probably be around four or five parts. BIG SURPRISE? Not.

**Musical Inspiration:** "The Time to Sleep" by Marble Sounds. (Thank you, **NewFoundGloryFan**, for the request!) Also, "Stray Italian Greyhound" by Vienna Teng. It was recommended listening for another gorgeous piece done by cupid-painted-blind so, really, there was no hope for me.

**Beta'd** by the ever-diligent **ebonyquill**. She has literally been proofreading overtime today!

* * *

**2**

* * *

Her body was like lead.

She couldn't _ever_ remember being this sore and heavy before, not even after the three-day trek over the Perito Moreno glacier along Argentina's border. Korra stumbled down the stairs, clutching the wooden railing hanging against the wall like a novice skater in an ice-rink, emitting quiet gasps and groans in turn. A moment later, Ikki bounded around the top of the stairs and—a fraction of a second later—bounced in, out, and around Korra's feet, shooting rapid-fire questions about everything from the band plastered over her shirt to—

"Korra, good morning, Korra! Korra, why are you walking so funny? Korra? Korra didn't you listen to daddy's instructions last night? You didn't stretch, did you? Did you, Korra? Now you're muscles are going to seize up and paralyze so you can't walk and we'll have to push you around in a shopping cart everywhere _and then you'll die_."

"WAFFLES!" bellowed Meelo, who catapulted himself into Korra's left leg at the unfortunate end of an attempted slide down the railing. Korra's mouth contorted, and a silent cry of pain twisted itself across her face as Meelo extracted himself from her calf and somersaulted over the final two steps, all before taking off toward the kitchen like a chemically-enhanced Nerf bullet.

Jinora quietly walked down the opposite side of the staircase with her eyes glued to worn pages of _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_, giving Korra plenty of berth so the young woman could ease her pain in relative peace. Korra crumpled onto the steps, eyeing the final five or so risers with uneasy eyes. Slowly, gingerly, she eased herself down onto the step below, carefully using all four limbs to move painful inch-by-painful inch. After three tedious long minutes, Korra had finally made it to the bottom and, allowing herself a moment of rest as she stuck herself to the floor, she released a sigh of relief.

Only to hear the familiar sound of a throat clearing from above.

"Oh," she chuckled nervously, looking up. "Morning, Tenzin."

For a moment, he only started down at her, all at once curious and exasperated. Then: "This is not... _typical, _even for novice runners. Given your level of endurance, you should not be in this much pain after only running just over three miles."

"Well, those, uh... hills will get 'cha, you know," Korra offered a lopsided smile, valiantly trying to right herself into a standing position.

"Indeed," Tenzin deeply intoned, making no motion to lend her a hand. "And may I ask at what time last night you completed the stretching routine I outlined for you on the fridge?"

Korra knew it was futile to play dumb... but she tried it anyway. "Oh... is _that_ where they were?"

"Korra."

Her mouth clicked shut.

"Did you do the stretches at _all_?"

"Well—"

"No, she didn't, daddy!" came a distant voice from the kitchen and Korra's shoulders tensed. "That's why Korra's legs are going to fall off _and she's going to have to move to Jupiter!_"

"Korra," Tenzin began again, with very serious eyes. "These practices are in place to keep you safe. In order to train hard, you need to remember the basics. If you keep skipping out on the simplest of procedures, you're going to get hurt."

She was about to argue, for she had plenty of experience in taking care of herself and there were plenty of excuses in her arsenal—for example, had _he _ever climbed South America's _Cerro Torre? _She thought not. She was about to remind him of just how _little _she needed his advice... but then she took a closer look at the concern in his eyes; this was Uncle Tenzin, after all.

And somehow, over the years of wading through the wilderness, it seemed she'd almost forgotten that.

"All right, fine," she mumbled, puffing out an irritated breath of air. "But I still refuse to do the yoga." She pointed a finger for emphasis.

Tenzin smiled then—not a real smile, of course, because it was Tenzin, so it ended up just being a gentle lift of the corners of his mouth—and offered his hand toward her accusatory one. "Maybe one day you'll change your mind, but until then, this will have to do."

Korra really wanted her face to stay strong and impassive as he hoisted her up, but mixed with the almost-forgotten pain and the jolting impressiveness of Tenzin's continued old-man-strength, she ended up hissing like a skittish cat instead.

"You'll rest today and we _will _do the stretches that I recommended. Together. But first," Tenzin turned away, heading back toward the delicious smelling concoctions readying over Aunt Pema's griddle. "Breakfast."

Korra lingered for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, caught by the utter simplicity and domesticity of the moment. A family, a house, a home; Korra had always had these things, though they'd occasionally looked a little different. She missed her mom and dad and Naga with every beat of her homesick heart, but this was home, too. Or, at least, it was becoming one. She felt like she could have been in a movie. One where everything felt _warm_.

"Korra!" Jinora called from the kitchen table on the other side of the wall. "If you don't claim your food in the next five seconds, there won't be any left to eat!"

"We won't be able to hold Meelo off for much longer!"

Frowning forcefully, Korra took quick steps toward the kitchen, cursing muscle fatigue all the way. "Whatever happened to treating the guests?" she groaned loudly, nearly falling flat as her right knee stiffened up.

"You're not a guest," Meelo shouted from the other room. "You're family!"

Korra paused, right foot caught mid-step over the carpet, letting the words sink in.

And then she firmly planted the foot into the ground and burst around the corner to claim her waffles.

As she fought off Meelo with a fork for a blueberry waffle with extra syrup, it occurred to her that this week was probably going to be rough; she _did _have pretty awesome endurance and near-miraculous recovery time due to some extraordinary self-healing genetic history, but her extended run from the day before had taken an extra toll on her body. She was willing to bet that she was going to be paying for it it all week at practice.

In the end, Korra lost the bigger half of the waffle piece that she and Meelo were supposed to split, but it turned out that she didn't really mind, after all.

She was too busy thinking about the other meet coming up this Saturday.

And where she planned to be after it.

* * *

"What kind of game are you playing?"

It was free period, and Korra was _supposed_ to be at a study session for her emergency SAT testing date, but instead Mako had pulled her aside in the hallway during the latest break and dragged her into one of the corners of the library... so here she was, backed into a bookshelf and she staring up into Mako's angry face.

"Uh... is this a trick question? I didn't think we _call_ them games or matches or anything like that—"

"_No_, I mean with Bolin. You've got him all in a tizzy and I know you're only using him to get back at me."

"_What_?" Korra hissed, _trying_ to be conscientious of the fact that they were in a library. A distant part of her mind quickly registered the half-dozen teen sitcoms she'd seen in the ski lodges, the ones in which the stern librarian punished young ones arguing a little too loudly off in the corner; she'd privately vowed right then and there to never become that cliché. Still, she vaguely wondered how intentional Mako had been in bringing her _here... __now_.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Mako quietly seethed. "Agreeing to go out with him then canceling last minute. You're messing with him because of—" he blushed "—because of what happened with us last Wednesday."

At first, Korra was certain that she hadn't heard right. No one in their right mind could _possibly _believe something that convoluted... but after a few moments of watching the blush spread wider across his cheeks, and after feeling the heat grow stronger in her own, Korra's embarrassment and confusion gave way to pulsing anger. "I am not!" she hissed furiously, leaning forward. "We're just having fun together!"

"You are _so_ leading him on!"

"We're just friends! And what do you care, anyway?" she tacked on, suspiciously.

"I'm looking out for my little brother," he defended irritably, but something about his stance screamed _shifty _to Korra. And he was stillblushing! "I don't want to see his heart get broken," he nearly spat, and that's when it hit her.

He wasn't just feeling protective, Korra realized—he was _jealous_! Her female intuition whirred rapidly through her blood and soon her inner-Amazon was _screaming _at her to pounce at the golden opportunity presented by his rather tenuous half-truth. Somehow, she reigned it all in.

Korra fumed for a full three seconds, but... torn between calling him out on his duplicity—which would make her feel a whole hell of a lot better, but probably put her in an awkward position on the team—and simply storming away, which was weak but probably the less explosive option of the two, the tension holding Korra's spine upright snapped. She sagged with the weight of her sigh, suddenly tired beyond belief; her muscles were still sore, but her heart truly felt the brunt of it.

"Where did you get the idea that I'd even be in a position to break his heart?" she muttered angrily, turning her eyes to a stack of nondescript books off to the side. Her arms were crossed now, but that did little to lessen the heaviness at her chest.

In a world so full of technology and civilization and stupid, wonderful conveniences like central heating, Korra still had to wonder: why had life been so much simpler when survival was a question of hunting seasons and climate weather patterns and finding a decent spot to pitch a tent?

"Are you serious?" he demanded, breaking her near-trance. "Agreeing to go out on a date _doesn't _equate to potential heartbreaker for you? Where have you been living all your life? Under a rock? _Mars_?"

Her eyes snapped to his so quickly and with such fire that he actually shifted back.

"Try a hut at the end of the world," she corrected severely, and he could almost _feel_ the burn of her glare. Her voice was quiet.

Mako blinked, now completely thrown for a loop. "Uh... what?"

But Korra was already making her way back down the aisle.

"_Tierra del Fuego_," Korra threw over her shoulder, chin held high. "Read a map."

"Whoah, wait a minute," Mako rushed to cut her off, trapping them both at a standstill in the middle of the back-corner aisle, but even now that he'd stopped her, he still didn't know what else to say. "Look, this isn't... I wasn't trying to..."

She watched him flounder, partially feeling bad for expecting him to know something that she'd been trying to cover up since she got to this strange new place, but mostly feeling _furious_; for all the importance these people put on social cues, they still managed to be _so_ ignorant. Why couldn't people just say what they meant? Why didn't people just recognize what it was that they wanted instead of making excuses? She wasn't ashamed of where she grew up...

So why didn't she feel proud?

Korra waited.

"Look," Mako started again, more gently this time. "I'm just really worried about Bolin, okay? He... he really likes you. _Really _likes you. You're all he's been able to talk about for the last couple weeks and this weekend really hit him hard. It didn't even matter that he'd done so well in the race because you weren't around to celebrate it with him." Sincerity. Admission. Entreaty. "I'm not a perfect brother and I'll never pretend to be, but... it was really hard for me, too, to see him like that, and to not know how to help him. He's never really acted this way over a girl before and... I just don't want to see him get hurt."

She wasn't sure if it was in his words or his eyes, but something about the moment hit just a little too close to home for Korra, and she looked away, biting her lip to hold it all together.

Thrown by the abrupt shift in the dynamic, Mako looked down at Korra with confusion and alarm. Now that he'd said his piece and had calmed a little of the restless energy he'd worked up when he had steered her through the halls, he took a moment to really examine her. It was almost startling, how much smaller she looked here among the towers of books than she did on the track or on the course—big smiles and sharp words, always—and this lost look of dejection over her face called to a deep-seated and well-honed urge to protect. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe to tell her to forget all about it, maybe to apologize or—

"And neither do I," Korra said quietly, laughing softly, irrationally, from stress and confusion. "But I still don't understand... What are you asking me to do?"

Mako looked stricken for a moment, gazing down at his teammate with some inner-turmoil. Whatever, Korra thought. She'd had enough of boys who didn't just come out and tell her what they wanted.

Only she really _hadn't_, Korra privately admitted as she looked up at him, waiting for his answer; she really hadn't, and that bothered her.

"Just... don't get his hopes up, you know?"

"I wasn't _trying_ to—"

"I know," he cut in quickly. "I know, I get it now, I'm... I'm sorry. I overreacted a bit. I'm just very protective of him."

"I can see that," Korra noted quietly.

"It's just that ever since... ever since our parents died, I've—"

"You don't owe me an explanation," Korra muttered hastily, furious with her nosy self for being so rudely curious and embarrassed that she still knew so little about social tact... not to mention afraid that they were about to have a compromising conversation in the middle of some semi-private book stacks. Yeah, he might have misplaced his anger, and yeah, she was still sore about it, but she didn't want him to feel obligated about sharing something very private just to appease her.

"But I kind of _do_," Mako insisted, running his long fingers through his messy hair. "I mean, even if I don't know you very well, I _know _you're not the kind of person who would do something like that. I don't mean to be so overbearing and—"

"Tell you what," she interrupted quietly, placing a hand on his arm. "Why don't we skip the apologies and personal histories for now and save them for a better time?"

Mako paused, and Korra could have sworn she saw something like hope pass through his eyes.

"Like when?"

"Like... on a run," Korra shrugged, but felt the space between them suddenly grow wired. She felt her fingers burn and dropped her hand back to her side. "You know, at practice or something."

"Right," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "That's, uh... that's fair, I guess."

"All right," Korra nodded pointedly after a beat. "So... now that free period is almost _over_, is there anything else you need to get off your chest?"

"Sorry about that," Mako grinned sheepishly. Korra's stomach promptly flipped, worse than that one time she'd accidentally dropped twenty feet over a mountain's ledge in Chile because her belaying got sloppy. "And if there's anything else to say? Well... Just... just let him down easy, okay?"

"Like you did for me?"

Mako's grimace was pretty gruesome. She noticed, but she was also simultaneously trying to figure out a way to pull her own tongue out.

"Sorry," she muttered immediately. "That wasn't fair." Mako was speechless and Korra was mortified, so she did the only sensible thing she could think of in that moment, which was to readjust the strap of her backpack over her shoulder and start making for the main lobby. Again. "Never mind. I'll remember what you said, okay? I'll see you at practice."

"I _am_ sorry about that, you know," he said clearly, stopping her in her tracks, though this time he stayed in place. "I mean... if things were different... or if Asami—I mean—"

Intrigued, Korra twisted just slightly, turning back to face him. "So... you _do _like me?"

Mako looked like he'd been caught red-handed and, in a way, Korra supposed he had been. "I don't know," he blurted out, looking anywhere but at her. It didn't matter anyway, because she was already approaching him. "Things are complicated," he went on. "I've been feeling really confused and—"

Korra was overcome with the sudden urge to kiss him, to just lean in and take what she wanted. But this wasn't rock-climbing. This didn't even feel anything like cliff-diving or trekking up a glacier; high school felt more like darting and tip-toeing through a field of landmines without a map.

So she stayed back.

"I'm sorry. I've been trying to stop that."

"Stop what?" he asked, perplexed.

"Making people feel uncomfortable by being so blunt," Korra shrugged, feeling displaced. "I know it can't be very easy for people to be around me."

Mako actually chuckled in response. "On the contrary," he said warmly, grudgingly, a little sadly. "It's all too easy to be around you."

The comment took her by surprise, and now _she _was the one left speechless... but it was a shared moment of warm silence, and in the end they both found themselves smiling.

"Hey," he said, brighter than before. "I've noticed that after we all leave practice, you tend to stick around while you wait for your ride. You need a lift home or something? Bolin and I could drop you off."

Even with the knowledge that it was Asami'scar that did the lifting, Korra was tempted. But she had to refuse. She might not have been getting any special treatment_, _but she didn't want people to have any reason to assume that her progress was cheapened by connections. For a girl who'd always been regarded as _unique _or _special, _ability being chalked up to anything but herself was the last thing that she wanted to happen to her _here_. Regardless of whether or not she had ever wanted it before, she'd always managed to get some sort of special treatment, simply due to the nature of her lifestyle and the spirit of roughing the wilderness with the Chief tundra expert of the south pole:

Her father.

"Sorry," she muttered sincerely. "My ride is already spoken for... but thanks."

Mako shrugged, perhaps just a little too casually to be nonchalant, just in time for the bell to ring. He nodded his head toward the lobby and Korra followed him out into the busy hallway. They walked down a few more halls together, chatting about practice and balance drills and speed work, and when they parted it was with relative peace, small smiles, and warm waves.

But neither really felt all that satisfied.

* * *

That night at practice, Korra was polite, but distant. Friendly, but focused. Herself, but also not.

Tenzin wondered at the change, but made note of it to discuss at a later time. Bolin seemed confused, but mostly unperturbed, and was content to run by her side in casual, companionable chatter. Asami even complimented her dedication, openly observing how quickly she was improving with the balance routines. Mako said nothing, but occasionally she would look up and catch him glancing at her, and they would nod slightly at one another, as if they shared some unique understanding.

Asami offered her a ride home, which she graciously declined; Mako was more talkative than before, though still oddly restrained; Bolin was just as bright as ever, but he never did suggest any alternative dinner plans.

And so the the week went by.

* * *

The second Saturday she went to the park, he was there, waiting for her.

He was already running, deep in the zone, fiercely concentrated on the path, without an iPod anywhere in sight, but she could _tell _what he was up to: he was running around the inner clearing in relatively plain sight... which was not where he preferred to be, she knew.

She snuck around through a path that she knew would cut him off, using every strategy she'd ever learned from hunting to keep her feet light and her stance low. When he was _right_ upon her, she leapt from the thickets and unleashed a growl fearsome enough to make Naga proud.

"You lunatic!" Tahno accused hotly, once he had regained some semblance of regular breathing. His hair was a mess, his eyes were wide, and his pale skin had nearly gone stark white in the face of Korra's rampage, but Korra was still doubled-over on the ground, laughing too ferociously to fully notice. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded, brushing off the leaves from his shirt. He was covered now, no thanks to his mighty, undignified fall.

"What did you think I was?" she cackled, trying to sit up. Her abs immediately protested, but she had to see his face. "A puma?"

"It doesn't matter what I thought you were! What matters is that you are _crazy_."

"Oh, come on, lighten up," she admonished, though secretly she wondered if perhaps she'd gone a little too far. He must have been at least a little embarrassed (it wasn't a very dignified shriek that he'd let out, after all) and he'd looked relatively peaceful, she had to admit, what with his smooth features and calm eyes. Now she almost regretted winding him up, putting a twist back into his sneer and some heat back into that cold, focused blue.

Almost.

"Is this what people do for fun where you're from?" he literally spat, trying to get out some dirt that had been kicked up into his mouth. "Stalk around shrubs and run into people who don't know any better?"

"Isn't that what _you _do?" Korra asked after a moment of consideration, with just a hint of genuine challenge. "I just moved here. I'm not the one who made up this crazy sport."

Tahno had been preoccupied with rubbing a spot of mud out of his white t-shirt, but now his eyes were positively glued to hers. Korra nearly pulled back at the sheer intensity etched into his face, suddenly very aware that they were only a foot or so from one another, still sitting on the path in the dirt and the moss. He released his grip on the shirt, dropped his elbows onto his thighs, and leaned toward her.

"If you don't want to be a part of it, then why bother participating?"

Korra was taken aback by the genuine curiosity that she heard in his tone; so human, so inquisitive, not outright disrespectful, but just a question, plain and simple. "I never said I didn't want to run."

"I never said you didn't," he clarified calmly, surprising Korra further. "But cross-country isn't just about running."

For reasons that she didn't fully understand, Korra suddenly felt very young and small. She'd learned from experience—_one too many confrontations on the ice caps, and the 'rents will ship you off to school, you know_—that she had the tendency to lash out when cornered. So this time she simply looked on at Tahno, wondering at what he saw, and shrugged.

He kept on looking at her, for so long that Korra was almost tempted to growl again, just to release herself from the quiet, curious scrutiny, but then he looked away, and she found herself wishing that he hadn't.

"I'm sorry if I scared you," she mumbled teasingly, but there was true apology beneath the words. She smiled at him, trying to bring him back into the picture, and her heart warmed when he spared her another glance.

"Oh, yeah, I'm peeing my pants over here."

His smooth sarcasm made her smile. "If it makes you feel any better, I have a husky lab back home who gets me all the time," she offered.

"A _what_?" he asked.

"A labrador husky," she repeated more clearly.

Tahno looked baffled. "What a terrible mix."

"She's _not _a mix," Korra quickly defended, feeling irritated on Naga's behalf, though probably a little more than the situation warranted. "She's a spitz, a purebred from a line of sled dogs originating all the way from Canada. Okay, well, I guess it's not a very known breed from around these parts, but she's a smart dog. Made strong for dogsleds. Anyway, she's got quite the growl in her."

Tahno was looking at her again, but this time it looked like he was torn between laughing outright and bolting the hell away.

Man, she was on a roll today.

"You are one crazy chick," he noted quite seriously.

_Well, it's not like you're the picture of sanity either, mist—_

"You've got one minute to get a head start."

She glanced up, only to be met with dark, hungry eyes. His smirk spread evenly across his narrow features and he craned his neck to the side to stretch.

"What?" she breathed, instinctively scooting back an inch.

"I'm a vengeful kind of guy," he drawled, absently brushing off a dry clod of dirt from his knee. "And I know these woods better than you, so I suggest you get moving."

"Are you... are you saying you're going to try to hunt me _back_?" she asked incredulously.

"Fifty seconds."

A dazzling smile, fast and feral, lit up her whole face. "You may be fast," she warned. "And you may have some advantage with the terrain, but I bet you're crap at tracking."

"Again," Tahno gestured, handmade gun of forefinger and thumb. "_Crazy_. And forty seconds."

"Bring it on, pretty boy," she stood, and then she was off.

* * *

Back in his pile of dirt, Tahno looked on at the long expanse of trees, knowing that somewhere within was a wild girl with bright eyes and muddy shoes, and wondered what the hell he was doing.

* * *

She dove in and out through the trees, winding herself through branches both bare and alive with color. Korra wondered how his race had gone that morning, but wasn't sure if she wanted to have to ask. Just as she was considering some stealthier ways of going about acquiring that information—maybe she could look it up online or read it in the newspaper or something—it occurred to her that she was acting according to the same creepy behavior that she had accused him of the week before.

Whatever. It wasn't the same.

* * *

Ironically, it turned out that he actually wasn't half-bad at tracking. Korra let out a scoff of disbelief as he ran into her neck of the woods, and paused well within earshot. Perhaps him finding her trail could just be a combination of luck and common sense.

Or maybe he had some sort of secret microchip sensor-device threaded into his ridiculous hair.

"Shit," she heard him mutter from below, and Korra smiled.

Either way, he may have found her tracks, but he wasn't going to be able to climb all the way up into this tree to get her.

"Well, look who it is!" she called down and Tahno looked up, startled. "Took you long enough."

"What the hell, new girl?" She could hear his irritation loud and clear. "Not a cheater, my ass. What do you call _this_?"

"Resourcefulness," she chirped. "Survival rule number one is that if you can't outrun your predator, you climb a tree."

Tahno's face cracked a smug grin from below. "Does that mean that you're finally admitting to me being a faster runner than you?"

"Will it mean that you'll congratulate me on my win from last week?"

"Technically, after this morning I now deserve _two_."

Damn. First place again? _Seriously? _She'd only pushed herself up to eleventh place on the team today. Yeah, she'd gotten twenty-third overall, but there were so few runners today due to the size of the private meet, so it wasn't as meaningful. And besides, if it wasn't Varsity, then it didn't count.

"Try again later," she called. "I'm still playing survivor up here."

"And what happens if the predator can climb?"

Korra smiled down at him. "Then I guess I'm screwed."

Dark, sable brows rose, then scrunched. He crossed his arms, looking at the trunk of the tree with serious consideration. Oh, crap. Was he really going to try it?

"What are you doing?" he called up, sounding far more alarmed than she'd ever heard him sound before.

"Meeting you halfway," she called down, nimbly lowering herself branch by branch with practiced ease. The trees were densely covered with bright yellow leaves, stars crisping with auburn around the edges, and they swayed with movement as she brushed past them. "If you're going to be reckless enough to try to come up, I might as well make it easier on you so you don't freak out."

"I'm not chicken," he denied immediately, haughtily.

Korra smirked widely. "Could have fooled me," she laughed, peering down at him from over her shoulder. She released one hand's grip from the sturdy tree knot and twisted her body open to the range of trees, facing him fully. "What's the hold up?"

"What the hell are you doing? Are you _trying_ to get injured?"

"Relax, man," she dismissed. "I've climbed much higher heights than this." She was only ten or so feet off the ground when she found a comfortable nook to slide into, a wide and hefty branch strong enough for two.

"This is ridiculous, you know."

"Just climb the tree, pretty boy."

"What's in it for me?"

"Nothing," Korra shrugged, smiling easily. "Absolutely nothing." Except maybe some company, but something inside her told her that maybe it wasn't the best idea to say that out loud.

He muttered something unintelligible under his breath, then made a grab for one of the larger tree knots. "The wolverine wasn't _meant _for trees, you know."

"Actually, although not considered arboreal by nature, the wolverine _can _adequately climb when necessary."

"Great, are you the freaking National Geographic channel now, too?"

"I could be Animal Planet, if you prefer."

"Just shut up and tell me which frickin' tree knots you used."

It was a challenge, but seven and a half minutes later, Korra was scooting out farther onto the branch to make way for a slightly-scraped and more-than-a-little-ruffled Tahno. When he finally lowered himself into position in the crook of the branch's elbow, he sent her the most fearsome glare.

Which she completely missed, hanging from her knees, as she was.

"You are _asking _for trouble."

"What?" Korra teased, feeling the blood starting to rush to her head. "Afraid you'll break something?"

"_I'm _not the one hanging upside down like a freaking ape."

With a laugh she swung herself upright, taking care with the bark against her skin. "It's refreshing to know you care, pretty boy," she teased.

"Well, that's where you're wrong," he countered, but only with minor irritation. "You taking a nasty fall and spraining something means that I'd have to carry you all the way back across town, which would be a huge setback to my training schedule."

"Is that so?" she demanded, leaning closer to him, enjoying the way his fingers unconsciously curled more tightly into the bark of the tree. "I didn't realize that _this _tree-climbing was part of the plan." Tahno scoffed, glanced down at the drop below, eyes carefully shifting back and forth.

"I don't think it's ever been about a plan with you."

Korra had meant so say some witticism in return, but something about his voice had caught hold of her attention, and whatever it was that she'd been about to say was suddenly eluding her. "At least this could be described as strength training or something," he remarked.

"Sitting on a branch?" she asked, confused.

"No," he smirked. "Finally catching the stupid new girl who's led me on a wild goose chase."

"You let yourself be led," she countered.

"Yeah, well, you let yourself be chased, and now you're caught."

She laughed then, young and bright and free. "Well, that's where you're wrong," she smiled at him and sat back on her perch, looking him straight in the eye from where she sat . She was suspended on the tree's limb only a few feet away, surrounded by yellows and oranges and reds. "And it doesn't matter how fast or how good you are."

"How so?" he asked, lips curving upward.

"Simple," Korra shrugged. "Because you'll only catch me if I let you."

"And what if I'm willing to catch you, even at the risk of falling?"

Korra smirked.

"Then we're both screwed."

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"So... are we going to go on a real run now, or what?"

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	3. three

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.  
**Pairing(s): **Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra, one-sided Bolin/Korra  
**Genre: **Romance/Friendship/Drama  
**Word Count: **8,186  
**Rating: **PG-13/T  
**Summary: **The life and love of running, autumn, and high school cross-country. — Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra. AU.  
**Author's Notes:** _11/4/12_. Super quick: it's so nice to finally be able to write a little bit about what I've seen in my travels... and to have it fit so nicely with Korra's background is such a plus. Also, I don't know how many chapters this thing is going to have, but I don't really want it to have more than five. :P Oh, and also, consider this segment a little transition piece of sorts.

**Musical Inspiration:** Just as a heads up, I've been listening to a lot of throwback music to high school and middle school for these next two chapters… Thus, I'm going to need you to not judge:

"Just So You Know" by Jesse McCartney (STOP IT, YOU KNOW IT WAS CATCHY) and "I Need Some Fine Wine and You, You Need to Be Nicer" by The Cardigans.

* * *

**3**

* * *

"Pick it up, pick it _up_!" Mako called out from the other side of the track, all the way across the field.

"Yeah!" Bolin's cheerful voice chimed from somewhere up ahead. "What's the hold up, guys? You hoisting sandbags or something?"

Something dark and guttural tore from the back of Korra's throat and, in a burst of adrenaline and fury and hatred, her legs carried her faster. She wasn't sure which one was going first, but Mako and Bolin were going to _die._

Korra could feel the other runners falling behind as she took off, legs and core burning, shoulders crushing under the weight of the sandbag secured over her upper back, but she didn't bother to look behind her. Just one second was all it would take, one moment of distraction, and she could lose her lead. The back of her throat began to burn with the taste of iron as she rounded the bend, but she pushed through, trying to remember the pointers in proper form that Bolin had taught her on Monday—_chin up, chin up, chin up_—and willed her legs to move faster. She could hear screaming now, the sounds of voices pulling together from the far end of the field, shouting out things that she couldn't understand—things that didn't matter—because all she could see was the track, it's white lines and synthetic grooves and faded markings.

She was tearing down the final straight, pushing step after step, when the screaming voices came into view, though not into focus, and for a split, irrational moment, her mind lost control and—she was supposed to be the one carrying the weight, guarding this burden, so why was the track carrying _her_?

—and Korra was sure she was flying.

Someone was screaming her name above all the rest, urging her toward the finish line, and though she could hear it now, she didn't need it; she was already there.

Korra wasn't sure which sensation came first—the bubbling exhaustion or the fires stretching out over her muscles or the acid in her lungs—but the euphoria outlast them all. Her smile only grew wider when Tenzin gave her a single, formal pat on the shoulder, and it hadn't gone away even by the time she'd done a cool-down walk around the grass with her teammates or even when she spread herself out alongside the three other girls in the bleachers, laughing breathily at their own lunacy and _god, do we really do this for fun? _

"Our sport is every other sport's punishment," Bolin chirped merrily as he bounded up the bleacher steps. Korra lifted her head from the aluminum stair and looked up into his proud, beaming face... and to the sports drink in his outstretched hand.

"Here, take mine."

"Thanks, but I already—oh," Korra broke off, glancing down to the empty bottle in her grasp. Hm. When did that happen?

"Not all at once," Bolin cautioned with an emphatic finger. "You chug that all in one gulp and you'll be feeling it for the rest of practice."

"Thanks," she laughed, trying to follow his advice as she took a careful sip. "Man... Did you _see_ that? I was so fast! I don't know where that came from."

"_I _do!" Bolin exclaimed, taking the seat next to her. "I can't wait to see how you do tomorrow morning. I mean, you're improving so quickly, it's almost unbelievable. Either you're a real natural or all of these practices must really be paying off."

Without meaning to, Korra was struck with images of tiny creeks, bright trees, and rocky riverbeds during early Saturday afternoons. There was a vision of a bridge that was fresh in her mind, the memory of an impromptu race, a small victory, a budding partnership, and the realization of

_I didn't know I had it in me. _

"Yeah," she muttered absently, taking another sip. "That must be it."

She wished that there were some way she could tell Tahno soonerabout how well she'd done today at practice. She would see him tomorrow after their separate meets... well, in theory, at least, since it wasn't like they ever openly planned to run into each other. Korra took another thoughtful sip from the bottle and felt her eyes being drawn toward movement near the equipment shed on the far side of the field. _On second thought_... she mused quietly. She wondered if she might want to wait to share her accomplishment until she had something more tangible to show for it, and then wondered what that said about her. Or him.

"Did you hear me?" Bolin gently waved a hand before Korra's eyes. "Hey, Earth to Korra—"

"Yeah," she repeated, giving her head a gentle shake. "Sorry," she apologized with a smile, hoping that he wasn't put off by her distractedness. He gave a casual shrug and a lopsided grin, and then sat back against the bleacher seats to get a better view of her teammates and chat. Bolin had them laughing in seconds... but Korra had already gone back to watching the space between the equipment shed and the far end of the opponents' bleachers. Even though Korra had always been able to count on her pretty reliable vision, she could never be totally sure; from her spot in the home bleachers, however, three things seemed pretty clear.

Mako and Asami were across the field, nearly hidden by the silver bleachers, loading the sandbags back into the storage unit. They were alone and, from the look of it, deep in heated discussion.

* * *

"Could you just drop me off at the corner, please?"

The car was thick with cozy heat, even with Tenzin's questionable taste in music, but his curious glance cut straight through to her skull like an ice pick.

"Don't you want me to bring you closer to the entrance?" Tenzin asked, clearly bewildered. "I'm sure the restaurant isn't so busy that I can't just drive through and leave you by the door."

"Nah, it's okay," Korra shrugged, eyes stuck on the bright red and blue lights of passing cars along the dark highway. "I like the cool air."

"Korra," he spoke softly, and she could practically _hear_ the fatherly advice sensors whirring in his mind. "If you're still uncomfortable with the idea of sharing the particulars of your living situation—"

"I just don't want anybody to think that my spot on the team wasn't earned," she cut in, firm, but pleading just the same. "I don't want anybody to be able to say that about either of us."

Tenzin sighed, and a quiet hush fell over the interior as the cassette tape gently transitioned songs. "I can understand your... hesitation," he intoned carefully. "And I won't pretend to know what it was like for you, growing up surrounded by the wilderness coalition, but I know the White Lotus isn't without its extremes." She could hear the sounds of his fingertips pressing against the steering wheel as he curved along the highway's turn, but to Korra they were empty, empty sounds.

"I know it's not the same," she said quietly. "And I know what you're going to say."

"Still," Tenzin flicked on the turn signal, and the gentle ticking echoed in her ears. "Perhaps it should be said. This is our team, Korra," he reminded her. "They're not going to judge you for who you know. We're a pack. They won't judge you for who you are."

"Really?" she asked skeptically. "Because I thought this was high school."

For a moment she actually thought she _saw_ him smirk... but it was probably just a trick of the light.

"They're going to find out eventually," he added, eyes glancing toward the dark rearview mirror as he shifted lanes. "Just see what happens when you offer them a little trust."

The gentle purr of the car thrummed through Korra's bones as Tenzin gently pressed on the gas pedal, leading her around the bend with slow, expert care. She watched the highway exit signs fly on overhead, glinting with the shock of blue and yellow headlights, and thought about what it might be like for a man with three young children and another on the way to take in a wandering, wild young woman who, quite possibly, would rather have been anywhere but here.

_I'm sorry I've been so difficult_, she wanted to tell him. _I'm sorry that I haven't fully appreciated how much you've done for me... that I've been too angry about being shipped away. I'm sorry that I've been too angry about being left behind and being pushed forward and being left nowhere at all._

I'm sorry that I didn't realize how lucky I've been until now.

"Thanks for the ride," she offered instead, fiddling with her seatbelt.

Tenzin spared her a glance, but mostly kept his eyes on the road. The city center came into view, full of commercial lights and night stars, and the old cassette tape played on.

"You're welcome," he said.

* * *

"Korra!" Bolin nearly shouted. "You made it!"

She had barely made it through the doorway when Bolin pushed through the crowd, took her arm, and graciously started steeringher toward their party. Despite Tenzin's vague prediction, the restaurant lobby was packed with people, and more than ten group leaders were anxiously holding onto little black plastic beepers, all with flashing little red lights. Korra allowed herself to be pulled through the crowd, glancing from side to side at the people filling the entryway and suddenly feeling horribly out of her place in her jeans and navy hoodie. Why had no one told her that this was supposed to be a fancy restaurant?

She didn't remember much from those boring documentary dinner receptions that her dad stopped making her attend, but maybe if she tried visualizing the tic-tac-toe game they'd drawn onto the tablecloth at the last one, she'd be able to remember the proper way to hold a fork or—

"We were afraid you got lost or something!" Bolin told her, still pulling her along. Just where was he taking her, anyhow?

"Bolin, why didn't you tell me that this place was nice?" she hissed, trying not to draw any more attention to herself than necessary. "I would've worn something nicer! Granted, I don't have very much to work, but—"

"Korra, relax," he laughed. "Nobody really cares about a bunch of teenagers here. We're regulars on most Friday nights, anyway. Our cross-country team has been providing them with routine service for years!"

"You sure about that?" Korra asked skeptically, spotting a woman in a black cocktail dress.

"Korra, trust me," Bolin assured her, and she was caught by the sincerity in his voice. "I mean, look at me!" She did, but it wasn't very helpful. _He_, however casual, at least looked respectable with his dark jeans and the deep green sweater that matched his eyes and—_aww, crap. _

"Bolin, what are you talking about, you're looking just as spiffy as the rest of these people are!" she complained.

Since she was still too busy taking in the general foreignness of the atmosphere, and since she wasn't expecting him to come to a full out stop in the middle of the walkway, Korra ended up ramming herself straight into his side as he turned to face her. Feeling slightly dazed, she looked up slowly, only to find herself staring into Bolin's grateful smile.

"Thanks," he said, voice warm and green eyes glowing. Korra blinked, suddenly having lost her train of thought, but then he was tugging her by the hand again, and she was left with the distinct feeling that perhaps that wasn't what she should have said.

"We're in the back corner, but once you see the rest of everybody, you won't feel so out of place," he smiled back at her, and it took Korra a moment to remember what fear he was trying to assuage.

_Crap_.

Now she just felt silly. _She_ was whining about what she wore? What the hell. She was _Korra_, the girl who liked holes in her socks and rebelled against sleeves! Her favorite article of clothing was a parka! It's not like she was—

"There you are!" came a friendly voice from the corner seat, and Korra inwardly groaned.

Korra was convinced that Asami was just like one of those girls on television who always looked polished and put together no matter what they had on. Black jeans, soft sweater, trendy scarf, and _ugh__,_ even brown boots that were stylish _and _practical. It wasn't a cocktail dress, but it may as well have been.

"Hey," she greeted in return, and as Asami rose from her seat to meet them, Korra struggled not to fidget with her zipper. She placed her hands on her hips, if only because she wasn't sure where else she could put them without looking awkward... or punching someone.

"Korra, I'm so glad you came," her captain told her, and Korra relaxed, just a little, at the genuine warmth in her tone. "I know it must have been hard with your move and everything, but we're pumped you could finally make it!"

"Uhh, yeah," Korra shrugged slightly, offering a small smile. She could see the whole team lined against the wall, some sitting along the long bench, some standing in small clusters, and somehow, despite the street clothes, things suddenly didn't feel all that different from practice. "I'm pretty pumped, too," she replied, and was surprised at the truth she found in her words.

Asami's smile was wide and white and brilliant. "We've been waiting for you to be able to join us for _ages_," she said meaningfully. For the briefest of moments, her eyes slanted toward Bolin, but when Korra turned toward him curiously, he was already flagging down somebody on the other side of the massive lobby, a figure making his way back from the podium.

"We should be up next!" Mako announced to the group at large, waving his pager apologetically. "Pack up your stuff, guys, we'll be moving in soon."

"Geez, Cap'n," Korra released a sharp laugh, crossing her arms, but her smile widened. "Do you ever take a break?"

The shock that played across his face was priceless.

"Korra!" he called, and the force of his smile hit her like a wall. "You're here!"

"So it would seem," she grinned back at him, and the beginnings of true excitement for the evening began to bubble in her chest. Why had she decided not to come to these dinners again?

"So," Asami prodded gently, and Korra's world came to a crashing halt. _Oh_. Now she remembered. "You a big fan of Italian food, Korra?"

"Uhh, well," Korra shrugged, still a little guiltily. "I've actually never had it before."

"What!" Bolin's hands flew into the air. "How is that even possible? What do you even _eat_?"

She briefly considered telling him about _cuy_, but the buzzing pager saved her the trouble.

"All right, guys, file in!"

Korra stepped in line almost as naturally as if it had been on the track, which, if she was being honest with herself, scared her a little. Living life off the beaten path had given her the will of an explorer and all the edges that came with it; the fact that she could so easily find her place among the thirty or so teenagers, looking like them and talking like them as they carved out a space in some chain restaurant like some scene straight out of a teenage drama movie, the fact that she could so easily _fit in_... Well, it's what she'd wanted, wasn't it?

Wasn't it?

"Wasn't it, what?"

"Oh," Korra shook her head with a nervous laugh. "Sorry. Just talking to myself."

Bolin's smile never faltered, but she could see it flicker in his eyes. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah, of course," she shrugged, knowing that she was crap at acting, and _crap_, wasn't she supposed to be putting more distance between the two of them?

"All right," he said, obviously unconvinced. "Well... if you're not feeling well, I could take you home, you know. Mako and I borrowed the car from our neighbor tonight, so if you're—"

"I'm okay," she assured him, pasting a small smile over her tired mouth. "Really. I, uh... I'm just not used to all of this central heating, you know? Makes me sleepy or something. But I love it! I've just never—_whoah_... Is all of this for us?"

"I _told _you we're regulars," he gestured to the wide, open room. There were long rows of tables, fit for a medieval feast, all neatly arranged under a high, sloping ceiling. The lighting was low and delicate, and softness permeated the air... though Korra suspected that might have also been due to the deep tenor of a man singing in Italian somewhere over the well-hidden speakers. Bolin placed a hand over her shoulder and gestured to the sight before them once more in a grand sweeping arc. "Welcome to the high life!"

But then they began to move.

While Bolin pointed out some of the skylights dotted along the ceiling, Korra watched as seat after seat, table after table began to fill, and she was left feeling like she was being given an exam, only no one had thought to tell her the subject, let alone pass along a study guide. All around her the team began to arrange themselves, the pieces of their grand puzzle clicking into place, and all she could do was watch to see where there might be a gap large enough for her to fit. There was that one girl that she'd raced earlier that afternoon—_crap, what was her name again?—_or maybe she could go sit next to—

"Hey, Bo!" Mako called from the very edge of the table. "Over here!"

"Come on," he nodded to Korra, but he went ahead and grabbed her hand anyway.

_Crap, crap, crap_, Korra's mind spit. Here she was supposed to be giving Bolin space, based off an understanding that she had come to with his brother, with whom she was dangerously in like, the exact brother who was calling them over and who was going to _see them holding hands_, who was—

Not paying any attention to them at all.

"But if we sit here, then I won't be able to sit with the rest of the girls," Asami reasoned, her painted lips curling into a small frown.

"But we always sit near the head," Mako countered, brows furrowing under his fringe. "Always."

"Look, _you _can sit at the head, but my girls are already sitting on this side of the table. I'm just going to sit here," she said, gesturing to the second to last seat from the edge. "It's not that far away, anyway."

"So I'll just sit next to you, then," Mako said, walking over to claim his spot. Asami blocked his path with a single finger.

"Not if you're going to sit there all night and complain about the lack of heat," she warned him. "Just sit on the other side, like you usually do. It's only one across from me, anyway."

"But—"

"Mako, it's _fine_," Asami lowered her voice. "Okay? I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

Korra was desperately trying not to pay them any attention, but Bolin was busy chatting it up with some of the other runners, and Korra was left standing awkwardly with her hands on her hips—better than in someone's face—and she wasn't sure what the social protocol was for eavesdropping on a muted argument between the boy one liked and his girlfriend.

"Here, Korra," Bolin burst in suddenly, rounding on her as soon as his conversation with the others came to an end. "The heater's right here, so you can take this seat, and I'll take this one right next to you."

Next thing she knew, Korra was courteously helped into her seat by a very considerate Bolin and subsequently electrified by the realization that this put her directly across from Asami. The lovely captain was chatting with the friends to her left, which meant that she had yet to see who had been placed in the spot right next to—

"Oh," Mako grinned, sliding into the end seat next to hers. "Hey, Korra."

"Aw, man," came Bolin's disappointed scowl from behind. Korra looked to the other side, having expected to find Bolin sitting beside her, but it looked like someone had already filled his spot.

"Sorry, Bolin," came the honest apology from one of the other varsity runners and—_man_, why was she so bad with names? "We had three to seat and these were the only open seats left together in the room."

"Nahh, it's okay," Bolin waved a dismissive hand good-naturedly. His smile was still intact, but Korra could see the disappointment all too easily as she watched him walk around the edge of the long table and take the only other open seat in the room, the end seat right next to Asami. She watched him shuffle his seat closer to the table and look up at her with an apologetic half-grin and Korra felt _awful_ because she shouldn't be feeling this relieved and disappointed all at once.

It was for the better, Korra reminded herself, trying not to miss his presence; it was always so much easier not to feel awkward around people when Bolin was with her, and she'd underestimated the amount of stress that could come from being in such an open, public setting. But she was supposed to be letting Bolin down easy, and she wasn't going to be able to do that if they spent the whole night chatting in a dimly lit restaurant. This was a good thing, Korra assured herself.

On the other hand…

"I didn't think you'd come," Mako leaned slightly closer, trying to make himself heard in the steadily growing din of the room.

Korra hesitated, unconsciously sparing a glance across the table to Asami, who was still chatting with the other girls. Bolin, beside her, was joking with a few runners from another table.

"I wasn't so sure I would either," she admitted honestly, feeling her blood warm. She blamed the heat of the radiator at her back, but she knew better.

"What changed your mind?" he asked, and damn it, if this boy didn't stop smiling, she was going to get dizzy.

But then some ancient instinct, perhaps something dredged from a millennia of collective evolutionary memory, seeped into her awareness, and forced her to look up… to where Asami was looking back at her, watching the hushed exchange with speculative, narrowed eyes.

Korra retracted her claws, and offered her most pleasant, genuine smile.

She definitely preferred the glaciers.

* * *

"Are you _positive_ you can't come?" Bolin asked again, just to be sure. "We could totally give you a ride. I'm sure your folks wouldn't mind you staying out for another hour or two."

"Sorry," Korra shook her head and, in a way, she really was, but mostly, Korra was just trying to ignore the way Mako was trying to ignore their goodbyes. "I should really just go straight home."

"We could drop you off, if you want," he added, and something inside her squeezed at the trail of desperation hiding beneath.

"Sorry, Bolin," she apologized, but then crossed her fingers in the pocket of her hoodie. "My ride's already on their way."

"Then we'll stay with you, so you don't have to wait alone."

"Really," she nearly begged. "I'll be fine—"

"Don't worry, Bo," came Mako's voice, suddenly at her side. "I'll stick around until everyone leaves. You guys go on ahead and I'll see you at home."

Bolin sent Mako a wary look that she didn't quite comprehend. "You sure about that, bro?"

"Yeah," Mako shrugged casually, dismissively. "Don't worry about it."

Korra didn't much understand the exchange, but then again, it's not like she'd ever had a sibling either. As she watched Bolin head off into some station wagon with what was probably far too many people, part of her really did regret turning him down. What would it be like to go out with a group of people for no other purpose than to just… hang out? What could she talk about that they could possibly relate to? If she started comparing fireworks to the _aurora australis_, would her teammates think of her as interesting… or pretentious?

Ugh.

That's the last thing she'd thought she'd ever have to worry about.

"So," Mako gently rocked back on his heels. "Is your ride really on its way, or did you just say that to save my brother's feelings?"

Korra's head snapped up with a glare. "Not so loudly!" she hissed, quickly shooting a reconnaissance glance about the patio.

"Relax," he grinned. "Everyone else is already gone."

"But you said—"

"I said that I'd stick around until everyone leaves… and not everyone has," he added, rubbing the back of his neck.

Korra was trying not to think about the lights strung up around them, twisted along the beams of the large wooden pergola overhead, and desperately trying not to think of the cold autumn air... or how warm Mako looked. Almost angrily, Korra jammed her hands into her sleeves, and swung her stance hipshot.

"What about Asami?" she asked pointedly.

Mako had the decency to look sheepish, but Korra felt like it only made the awkwardness worse. "She had to head out early," he explained with another shrug, though this one looked far less casual than the one he'd given Bolin. "Her dad called and she had to go home and help with some stuff."

Korra's insides felt twisted. "Is everything okay?"

"What? Yeah, no, she's fine," Mako smiled slightly, looking up at the starry through the gaps in the beams. "She just switches back and forth between her mom and dad over the weekends, and her dad is always calling her back for random stuff when it's his turn. He's pretty overprotective," he releases a low breath into the cold air, where it curls against the darkness of the sky. "Half the time I think he calls her just because he's afraid that one of these days, she won't come back."

Korra listened with her whole heart, and felt like she was being more invasive than ever. She nearly cringed as a small, curious part of her wondered what Asami's father thought of Mako.

"So," he repeated. "Is your ride really on its way?"

She sighed deeply and tightened her crossed arms. "No," she confessed. "I still have to call."

Mako grinned, and the light in his amber eyes sent warmth running through her limbs.

"Tell you what," he said quietly, smiling. "Call your ride up and tell them you don't need one."

* * *

"_Man_, I had no idea you knew Italian!"

"Technically... I don't," Korra confessed with a shrug. "It's just very similar to Spanish."

"Whatever! I just saw you tear two jerks apart in a completely different language." He shook his head, laughing to himself, though Korra didn't really see what was so funny.

"They were giving her a hard time," she contended. "The waitress was just trying to do her job, and they were being dicks. She didn't understand a word of it. Of course I was going to say something."

"Uh, yeah, in _Italian_," he laughed again, and gently steered the car through the parking lot's mouth. "Is this going to happen every time I give you a ride? We head for the door and you bust some heads?"

Korra faltered. _Was_ there going to be another time?

"What did they even say to her?" he asked curiously.

"Something I'd rather not repeat," she huffed, sliding farther down against the headrest.

"Well," he paused. "What did _you _say?"

Korra smirked.

"That, I _really _can't repeat."

They both laughed then, and Korra started to feel some of the adrenaline give way to the comfortable cloud of heat blowing from the dashboard. There was some local radio station playing in the background, but Korra still didn't recognize any of the music. Not that they were really listening.

"Which way?"

And just like that, Korra's original worries came bursting back to life. "Uh, take a right here, onto the highway," she instructed carefully, feeling her heart pound.

"You know, for a second back there, I actually thought you were going to clock one of them," Mako noted, and she hoped that what she heard in his voice was awe, rather than wariness.

"Not today," she answered honestly. "That's not really my style."

Well.

Not anymore, anyway.

She wondered what his reaction would be if she told him the reason why her parents _really _thought it'd be best to send her here. If he knew how many confrontations she'd started… and ended.

Korra flipped the hood onto her head, and zipped the zipper higher, hoping that it might somehow make her disappear.

"You cold?" he asked, glancing to her from the side. Without waiting for an answer, he jacked up the heat to full blast. "Sorry, the car's kind of old. I'm helping my neighbor, Toza, fix it up in exchange for being able to use it every once in a while, but there are still some kinks to work through."

"It's fine," Korra muttered, hoping that he couldn't hear her beating heart over the blast. Even if she _hadn't _run out of things to say, she still wouldn't have been able to say much; all she could think about was that in a few minutes—

"Take the exit after this one," Korra managed through the small cocoon of her hood, and without meaning to, her body slid down all the way in the seat until she was nearly curled into a little ball, her knees up on the dashboard and chin practically tucked into her chest.

"Hey," Mako glanced again, looking a little worried. "You sure you okay? It's not too hot now, is it?"

Korra leaned her head back against the seat, willing herself to calm down. "No," she laughed softly, mostly at herself. "I like the heat."

Mako was quiet then, like he didn't really have much to say to that, but Korra was too chicken to look at him to see why.

At least two songs went by without further comment, and Korra was torn between overwhelming mortification at the fact that, _hello_, she'd only been working overtime for the last month or so to keep her soon-to-be-revealed home a secret and overwhelming nervous jitters because, _hello_, she was still in the car with Mako. Alone. And neither of them were talking.

"This one here?" Mako's voice broke through the silence and Korra looked up, startled. He was pointing toward her exit.

"Yeah," she confirmed, feeling her mouth go dry. "Just turn right as soon as you get off. It's in that residential district down the road."

"Hey, did you know that you live right in Coach Tenzin's neighborhood?" he asked, clearly amused. "I wouldn't ever try egging his car, or you'd be the prime suspect."

"Is that a thing?" she asked, half-grossed out, half-mindlessly afraid, and wholly intrigued.

"Only for the sore losers," he laughed, but then his face darkened with shadows. "Or the Wolverines."

"The what?" Korra breathed, shifting herself upright.

Mako sighed, and his breath grew long and suffering and irritated. "The ones you ran into at the first meet. Tahno and his arrogant gang of asshole running junkies."

"But… aren't we all running junkies?" she asked, stamping down the defiance that slithered its way into her tone.

"Cross-country isn't just about running," he explained, and the tension in his voice pulled taut while Korra's mind went blank; this was the second time in a single week that someone had tried to tell her this… though she never did hear the other perspective. "And it's not just about one person," Mako continued, nearing a full-out rant. "In cross-country you're a part of a team, and a team is only as good as its slowest runner. People think that cross-country is about individual performance, but it's _not_. And the hero worship that these schools lay at Tahno's feet makes me sick."

Korra released her fingers with a deep breath, feeling her grip on the seatbelt give way and loosen; she wasn't entirely certain when her knuckles had turned white, but if she didn't want to make a fool out of herself, then she needed to pull it together quick.

"Have you ever thought that _maybe_—"

"All right, which street?" he asked brusquely, and despite her growing fear, Korra rolled her eyes at the terseness in his voice. Abruptly, she scoffed and shook her head, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. This was a mistake.

"This one on the right," she pointed, feeling her throat itch.

"Wow," he murmured, and the earlier irritation in his voice trickled away. "You know, I think this street looks awfully familiar," he commented, though Korra suspected that it was more to himself than to her as he drove along. "I swear I've been on this same street before."

"Probably for Tenzin's end-of-the-season dinner," she suggested.

"Wait," Mako did a double-take. "You live on the same street as Coach Tenzin?"

"Actually," Korra paused, feeling her heart clench as she spotted the familiar mailbox too few yards ahead. It was right at the far end of the street, nestled along a line of towering pine trees. "You can stop right here."

"But we're not near any of the driveways. It's practically deserted here, and we're essentially under a willow tree."

"Just stop, please."

"But—"

"Just _stop_!"

"All right!" he barked, before pulling the car up to the curb. The air was thick with a different kind of silence as he put the car in park, but Korra refused to look at him until she was ready, her heart drumming loudly in her ears. Finally, he gave the key in the ignition a vicious twist, and the car shuddered to a quiet. Neither looked anywhere but forward, stiff in the stillness of the sudden war ground between the doors, and at last—too soon—he turned to look at her, and waited.

Korra took a deep breath.

"I don't just live on Coach Tenzin's street," she said carefully, forcing herself to meet his eyes. "I live in his house, too."

Mako blinked. The look that crossed his face sent Korra's stomach hurdling toward the ground. "Say… what?"

"And it's not just Coach Tenzin," she added, more quietly than before. "It's Uncle Tenzin... for me."

"So," Mako's brows furrowed, and he cleared his throat to rid himself of the small crack that had entered it. Korra tried not to flinch. "You're... related?"

"We're family," she clarified.

"Wow," he nodded absently, looking just as lost as Korra felt.

"I'm sorry for being so weird about it," she glanced up at him from under her hood. "I just didn't know what people would make of it."

"No, uh, don't worry about it," he said quickly, laughing a little nervously. Korra's eyes narrowed as she watched him fidget with the steering wheel; for a guy who usually looked so stoic and who _always_ needed to be in control, she hadn't expected him to be so… awkward. Like her.

"Well," he laughed again, sounding sheepish. "I guess it explains why you've gotten so much better these last few weeks, huh?"

Her stomach dropped.

"Tenzin doesn't play favorites," she warned him icily.

Mako looked taken aback. "I never said—"

"Tenzin may have been the one to push me toward the team in the first place, but I'm the one who got myself a spot. He trains me like he would anyone from the rest of the team, and my progress over the last month doesn't have anything to do with the fact that I live with his family," she continued, feeling her heart well in her throat. This was _such_ a mistake. "And I'd appreciate it if you'd stop yourself from going home and spreading this all over the team, too."

_So stupid_. Here she thought she was doing the right thing by giving a little trust, just like Tenzin had asked, and all she got for it was seeing the boy she _thought_ she liked live up to every fear she'd ever housed about sharing more of herself with her team. She shouldn't have let him drive her home.

And the worst part, Korra thought, was that it wasn't even the whole truth. The truth was that she ran herself into the ground each and every Saturday with a boy that _she wasn't even sure she liked_, but who helped her train and climbed trees with her and always judged her, not because she was weird or awkward or crazy, but because he was a jerk who judged everyone, and she could always rely on him to tell it like it was.

"Korra, listen to me, I didn't—"

"Whatever," she mumbled, reaching for the door handle, feeling worse than ever. "I'll see you at the meet."

"Korra, wait—"

She pulled on the lever, but the door wouldn't budge.

"What the hell," she murmured, twisting fiery eyes back at the driver. "Did you seriously just lock me in?"

"You're not listening to me!" Mako threw back, and his hands fly into the air with the force of his frustration. "Look—"

"Unbelievable!" Korra hissed, and the next thing Mako knew, she was scrambling to unhook her seatbelt. "Dude, this isn't funny," she twisted in her seat, trying to find the lock, only to realize that it was protected by some child-safety device. _The hell_? "Mako, this is stupid. Let me out!"

"Not until you hear what I'm trying to—"

"Hey!"

"Korra, stop being so ridiculous and—"

"Whoah, man, let _go _of me!"

"Will you—just—_stop_!"

And she did.

In a strange moment of clarity, Korra could see that the windows of the car were fogged, clouded from the heat of their breaths, and she could feel the cold of the window against her back, the icy chill of the condensation dripping down her spine. It was impossible that it could be so cold when the rest of her body felt so hot, felt so warm under the pressure of his hands, the heat of his breath, but there it was.

Carefully, Mako leaned back, suddenly very much aware of the closeness between their bodies and the way his hands rested over her wrists against the side of the door. He shifted, trying to readjust his weight so that he wouldn't crush her, but just enough so that she wouldn't try to run.

They remained absolutely still, sharp angles and stiff lines across the seats of the car, breaths mingling in the stale, dry heat of the hazy air, and it was in the third silent breath that Korra realized that the anger on her face had melted entirely away.

"If I let you go," Mako whispered, and the puffs of air blew gently against her cheek. "Will you promise to hear me out first?"

_So close_, her mind whispered.

But this wasn't cliff diving and this wasn't Mako's car and she wasn't Mako's girlfriend.

She nodded.

He released her, scooting back into his seat almost immediately, and gripped the steering wheel hard. Korra took a little longer to sit up, carefully adjusting the hoodie back over her stomach, carefully watching Mako avoid looking at her. She could feel that her ponytail, her breathing, her heart—all of it—was a complete and utter mess.

"Look," he said heavily, running a hand through his unruly hair. His breathing hadn't gone back to normal either. "What I said—I didn't mean anything by it… _again_," he scoffed, softly slapping the steering wheel with the flat of his palm. He sighed, eyes downcast. "I don't know why I'm so terrible at this stuff. I'm not usually so bad with words."

Korra inhaled deeply, and felt the ends of her hair grow damp against the cooling droplets on the window. Her feet were still stuck halfway between his seat and hers, but she was afraid of making any sudden movements.

"I guess you're not the only one who has a thing for overreacting," she sighed again, feeling a weight float away from her shoulders. It might have been the part of her that cared.

Mako laughed suddenly, an uneasy, flustered smile breaking out across his face that only looked all the more beautiful in the shadows from the branches of the willow tree. _So much for not caring_, she thought, letting her head fall back against the glass with a thud.

"Can we make another agreement or something?" Mako turned to her then, and Korra's tongue went thick. Her eyes traced the lines and edges of his jaw, curved over the bridge of his nose, the paths of his brows, his mouth. "I vote that we're not allowed to jump to any conclusions of _any _kind with each other… Not until we're sure that we understand the other one completely."

Korra's head twisted to the side, and her eyes fell to the dashboard with a huff of disbelieving laughter. Her smile was wide, but tentative, full of _I can't believe I'm doing this_, but it gave Mako the answer that he needed.

"All right," she quietly agreed, feeling more ridiculous than ever. There was an uncomfortable pulling at the nape of her neck as she nodded, and in one swift motion, she'd reached her hand up and pulled her hair elastic free, letting the strands spill out over her shoulders. "I think I can handle that," she smiled up at him, sliding the elastic over her wrist.

He blinked, and then abruptly turned back away, facing the long line of the street ahead of them. Gently clearing his throat, he asked, "Would you like me to drop you off closer to the driveway now?"

No, she thought.

She wouldn't.

"Yeah," she murmured gently. "That would be great, thanks."

The engine gently thrummed to life as Korra twisted herself back into position in her seat, and before Korra knew it, they were once again moving forward. She didn't bother to put her seatbelt back on, and the music was still off, but the new silence was an acceptable one. It wasn't comfortable, still spiked with haywire sparks and residual tension, and it set Korra's teeth on edge, but it wasn't unpleasant.

"If I didn't manage to say so before," Mako said softly, pulling the car to a stop just out of the house's view. "It's cool that you're living with Tenzin."

Korra glanced up, and the hands that had been playing with the drawstrings of her hood grew still. "It is?"

"Yeah," Mako shrugged awkwardly. "I mean, I guess it all makes more sense now, too. But he's the best coach our team has ever had and… I don't know. It just makes sense."

Korra didn't know if it was the renewed warmth surging through the dashboard or if it was the blood still pumping heavily through her veins or if it was the way he looked at her then, sheepish and guilty and endearing—_and trying so hard to make things right again_—but in a gentle flash of movement, too quickly for either to resist and so slow that they could _feel _it coming, Korra rose up, shifted forward, and softly pressed a kiss to his cheek.

She leaned back, watching the shock and the confusion root him to the spot, and offered him a small, grateful smile.

"Thanks, Mako," she whispered, feeling her smile turn with sadness. "For all of it. You're a good guy."

She lingered only a moment more, watching the thoughts swirling madly behind his eyes, the color stretching over his cheeks in the shadows, but when he made a move to speak—brows drawn, lips wet, parted—she carefully pulled the handle and twisted herself out.

Korra looked back at him from the safety of the ground, one hand still on the frame, and watched him withdraw.

"I'll see you at the meet tomorrow," she smiled still, but somehow her cheer fell flat.

"Yeah," he replied, and Korra saw the way the corners of his mouth refused to climb any higher, though they tried. "I'll see you."

The door's closing thud had a disheartening sort of finality to it, so she made sure that her back was to it before it cut down her spine. She didn't look back until she was at the threshold, too afraid of what her face might betray, wondering why she hadn't yet heard the car pull away, but by the time she looked down to the street, Mako's eyes were already on the road, and he was slowly turning around.

* * *

The next morning, when she crossed the finish line, she nearly took out two girls to get there.

The taste in her mouth burned all the way up and down her throat as she doubled-over in the chute, willing herself not to throw up, even as the girl in front of her retched, and gentle hands on her back pushed her along, _keep moving, keep going, don't stop_.

When she was released out into the open field, poked and prodded with water suppliers and tag collectors, she stood and swallowed hard, feeling the harsh air cool her warm, wet face.

She walked the first twenty steps beyond the course, but broke into a jog as she headed for the results tent, feeling her legs protest every step of the way. Her lungs were crying, her body aching, but her mind was on fire, and she didn't have time to wait, not for anybody.

The meet was a small one, invitation only from a few select sponsors, so perhaps it wouldn't make much of a difference, but she wanted to _know._

And she wanted to know before he did.

Her finger shot out along the computer monitor before her brain could actually assess what it was doing, and her eyes frantically tore down the screen, picking out words and letters and meaningless numbers _until_—

She smiled.

Her hand fell limp at her side, and she let her head fall back with the weight of the breath released from her lungs. Korra's body suddenly felt like jelly, loose and weightless and unstable, and the walk back to the starting line was wobbly and shaky, but she didn't care.

"Korra!" her captain cried cheerfully. Asami's face was flushed and her long strands of hair were matted every which way, drenched in sweat and victory. "We're back here!" she smiled, reaching for Korra's hand. "The boys are about to start! Come on, come quickly!"

She took her place among the other ladies on her team, still feeling weightless and displaced among the crowd and the noise. There was a lightness about her now that wasn't there a few weeks ago, a strange feeling of being grounded and lifted all at once that made her head spin, and the beating in her chest made her feel young and strong and alive.

The racers were finishing up, shaking out the last of their stretches, and loud grunts and shouts could be heard all the way down the line. Korra could feel the sweat dripping into her eyes, creeping over her eyelids and slipping into her mouth, but the taste of it only made the victory sweeter.

She glanced up at Mako and Bolin, mouths of hard lines and eyes of steady, narrowed focus, determined to only look forward, only ahead. They were approaching their marks, and the screaming around her was deafening, so Korra let out a long, heart-pounding whoop amongst the crowd, and let her face express all of the emotion that she could no longer contain. She felt like she was on fire.

And when she looked to box one, he was already staring back at her.

Across the chaos, they locked eyes, and Korra let her breathing run ragged, let her smirk spread _wild_ across her face. His eyes were curious, a cold sort of heat that she was growing more and more accustomed to, and when neither of them looked away, she knew with certainty that she would see him again that day.

From across the barrier, she let her eyes say all that she could not, and as she mouthed the words across the field—_go for it_—she briefly wondered what the hell she was doing.

His smirk spread wider, seared to the very marrow of her bones, and then he was facing forward, eyes hungry, and she felt the gunshot all the way to the core.

* * *

Tahno won, again, but somehow Korra wasn't at all surprised.

What _did _surprise her was that she had come in eighth.

And that it somehow felt like first.


	4. three point five

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.  
**Pairing(s): **Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra, one-sided Bolin/Korra  
**Genre: **Romance/Friendship/Drama  
**Word Count: **2,273  
**Rating: **PG-13/T  
**Summary: **The life and love of running, autumn, and high school cross-country. — Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra. AU.  
**Author's Notes:** _11/11/12_. Yeah. I have no idea where this is going. This went from one-shot to two-shot to five, and now I suspect that it might be closer to seven because _I am in too far deep, people._

**Musical Inspiration:** "When Can I See You Again" by Owl City. (Oh, yeah, I totally just saw _Paperman_ and _Wreck-It Ralph_.)

* * *

**3.5**

* * *

The third Saturday she went to the park, he asked for her number.

Korra still didn't know much about social norms, but she was quickly catching on, and she definitely didn't want to say something stupid or awkward, _but she was Korra_, so she couldn't really help it when she asked:

"What, just in case you need a couple extra hours of harassment in your life?"

"Actually," he smirked up at her, leaning farther back onto his elbows, and Korra could hear the _crunch crunch crunch_ as he shifted over the mountain of leaves they'd gathered. "I was thinking of starting the trash talk a little early. You're running on my turf next weekend, after all… or have you already forgotten?"

She had.

"Of course not," she said flippantly. "I just hope this isn't some way for you to finagle another excuse to talk to me."

"A cocky little thing, aren't you?" he noted, and Korra was near positive that the hint of appreciation in his voice wasn't just her imagination.

"No more so than my running partner," she elbowed his ribs, hard, though her smile lessened the brunt of it. "And besides," she said meaningfully. "After my race this morning, I think I've earned the right, haven't I?"

"Please. You may be getting better, but you're still a long way off. Make varsity _before_ I retire, and then we'll talk."

"Arrogant prick," she shoved him, and then dropped back onto the pile of leaves beside him with a contented sigh. They remained like that for some minutes, quietly resting in the leaves, until:

"What's it like at your school?" Korra asked abruptly, overcome with curiosity.

"Like most schools, I guess," he shrugged, and if he was surprised by the question, he didn't show it. "A hefty dose of competition with a side of status and a little learning thrown in occasionally."

"Do you think you'll miss it?" she asked quietly, staring up at the sky. "When you graduate, I mean."

"Depends on which part of it you're referring to."

"How about your team?" she clarified, noting the reluctance in his voice. "The Wolverines, or whatever it is that you call yourselves."

"My team?" Tahno paused, strangely thoughtful for once. "I mean… I don't really talk to many of the others on my team."

Korra's brows furrowed. "Aren't you captain?"

"Yeah," he sent her a sidelong glance. "So?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Her mind flooded with memories of Mako's grueling speed drills, Bolin's unflappable energy during hill workouts, Asami's _peppy _enthusiasm for suicide relays… and a memory from last night's Friday carb-loading team dinner at some fancy Italian restaurant in Central Square—one that she was _positive _couldn't actually be authentic, even if she'd never set foot in Europe—complete with Mako's team pep talk and Asami's _cheers,_ all before the breadbaskets even arrived. She may not have liked Asami very much—_jealous—_and she may have liked Mako _too _much—_smitten_—but there was something that she was starting to realize about her team, even if she still didn't totally understand.

They were her family, too.

"What about… what about the two boys I saw you walking with at the first match?" Korra suggested, trying to make her voice sound like she _wasn't_ grasping at straws.

"_Meet_," he corrected immediately. "They're called _meets_, new girl, not matches. And you mean Shaozu and Ming?"

"Yeah, whoever, the two jerky-looking ones."

He laughed, but he didn't disagree. "I don't remember there being many days before Ming and Shaozu and I partnered up. We all started together in middle school, we were all pulled up into J.V. from Modified at the same time… huh. I guess it's always been the three of us training together, too."

And for some reason, the way he said it—like he was only just realizing it, like he was only just starting to _see_—it made Korra's heart squeeze in a way that it shouldn't have.

"So, you guys are…" _Friends?_

"Our formation is solid and our focus is unparalleled," he smirked. "There's a reason why we've brought the Wolverines to States three years in a row."

"Yeah," Korra nodded absently, feeling a little sick, a little sad, and a little hollow. "I bet."

She wondered if he called them friends. Did they consider _him_ one? Who did Tahno hang out with on the weekends? Korra suddenly remembered the fan girls crawling through his troupe on the field grounds at the first meet, stalking his footsteps like hungry, man-eating vultures. She resisted the urge to cringe, but she couldn't help but wonder—were _they _the ones he spent his free time with?

"—but it's hard not to get impatient with people when you have Division I scouts breathing down your neck every day of the week about submitting applications."

Korra blinked; she hadn't heard much of what he'd said, but she'd heard enough. "So soon?"

Tahno paused, his eyes glued to the sky. "Well… I've only got a few months left."

"Oh," she said thoughtlessly, processing. _How could I have not realized?_

He was a senior.

"Yeah," he added quietly.

They sat among the leaves in silence.

"What was it like where you grew up?" he asked abruptly. "What with the tree-climbing and hunting and all the other crazy shit you talk about sometimes."

Korra blinked at the rapid change in topic, and then laughed, if only to break through the sudden tightness in her chest. "Dude, asking me where I grew up is like asking me to locate the Vanishing Isle. It changed all the time.

"_But_," she said emphatically, when she saw that he was about to interrupt. "What I tell most people is that I grew up in South America. I… I was born here, but I traveled a lot with my dad, who does expeditions all over with the White Lotus wilderness coalition. My mom would come with us most of the time when I was younger, but once I was old enough to head off with him with some measure of independence, she stayed behind to handle all the business and public relations stuff in Ushuaia."

"Ooh-_what_?"

Korra laughed. "It's a port town in the Land of Fire, in Argentina. People use it for trips out to Antarctica all the time… It's supposed to be the southernmost city in the world," she laughed again, this time to cover the gaping hole that suddenly tore through her heart. "I didn't really understand what people meant by_ the end of the world_ until I was older."

She let the words hang in the air for a brief moment, feeling the reminders of home sink in with slow, careful clarity—_el fin del mundo—_andshe thought of her mother and father and Naga. Korra knew that _this _was how far apart they all were, that it was true in every sense of the phrase, —_at the end of the world_—and she never thought that one person could hate geography so fully.

"What's homecoming?" she asked quickly, eager to change the subject again. She didn't talk about things like this very often, and she wasn't wholly prepared for the wave of emotion that rocked her.

Tahno paused, and this time, he _was_ caught off guard. "Uhh," he collected his thoughts, shifting back from where he'd moved forward, having leaned toward her as she spoke. "It's a school pride thing," he explained slowly, strangely careful. "It's essentially a week leading up to the first big football game of the season."

"But... why would the football players get a whole week?" she asked. "What do we get?"

Tahno full out _laughed_. "Well, if your school is anything like mine, it means that you'll eventually have to work the concession stand at one of their games."

"Wait, _what?_ That' so unfair! Why do the football kids get such special treatment?"

"Tradition?" Tahno shrugged, obviously amused by her tirade. "I mean, it's no big for us. Our high school football team sucks. We all know who the _real_ stars are… Though I'm afraid I can't say the same for you."

"Whatever," Korra snapped, crossing her arms. "What else happens?" she grumbled.

"Well... The schools around here go all out. The big game happens on a Saturday afternoon, so every day leading up to it has a different theme or whatever for students to try to show their school spirit… athletes, especially. Then there's a pep rally on Friday night with a bonfire and then... there's a dance on Saturday night after the game."

"That seems like an awful lot just for some football kids."

"Again, welcome to high school."

"So how does the dance thing work?"

"Well... what do you mean?"

"Like, do you go alone or as a team?"

"Ah... It's usually for groups of friends," he explained noncommittally, shrugging into the crunchy leaves. "Or dates."

"Oh," she murmured, staring into the sky and licking her lips. Out of nowhere, Korra was overcome with the notion that making any sort of movement, making any sort of noise in the leaves, would be classified as a _bad idea_. She cleared her throat gently. "Do you ever go?"

"It's not really my thing," Tahno said, a tad coolly.

"You?" she asked incredulously, looking at him to the side. "Mr. Gaudy and Flamboyant Spotlight-Lover?"

"You're hysterical, as always," he droned.

"Seriously," she poked him the shoulder. "I would have thought that you'd be _all over_ something like this. Lots of people to admire you, lots of minions to do your bidding…"

"They do plenty enough of that during daylight hours," he waved a hand dismissively. "I must allow them occasional rest if I have any wish for acceptable service."

"You're despicable."

"You're catching on," he praised, smirking from across the huge pillow of leaves. She lashed out to swat his shoulder, but this time he was prepared and swat it away with his own. "Explain something to me. Sometimes it feels like you act like you don't know what the hell is going on in the world, and other times it feels like you understand a lot more about human nature than you claim to."

Korra froze, suddenly very much aware of the dry, crispy leaves against her bare legs. "So?" she demanded defensively, completely unsure of what she was even defending. "What are you trying to say?"

Tahno was considering his words carefully and—_the thoughts are churning away in his oversized hairdo,_ Korra tried to think meanly, distractingly, but—his eyes drilled into her own. "Have you ever really hung out with people your age?" he asked seriously.

"Apparently not," she jibed. "Even now I'm _still_ stuck with an old man. Some huge-ego, tyrant, superstar senior bound for college within mere—"

"Oh, please, you're like, what, one year younger than me? Two?"

"I'm a _junior_, thanks," she confirmed snappily. "And not that I didn't fight for it either, what with all the administrative crap—"

"You still didn't answer my question, new girl."

She glanced to him at the side, trying to get a read on his tone, but all she saw were pale blue eyes, waiting. Korra sighed.

"Only the locals of the villages we passed through," Korra explained slowly, hesitantly, after a beat. It wasn't like she was used to talking about things like this… but for some reason, now that it was out in the open, it wasn't as uncomfortable as she thought it would be. "I was never really in a position to stop and make friends."

But Tahno only laughed, a bitter edge sharpening the sounds.

"Being stationary doesn't automatically put anybody in a position to make friends."

Korra floundered for a moment, halfway prepared to deny his cynicism, halfway ready to curl into a little ball and agree, halfway across the pile of leaves to—

"You ready to run?" he sat up sharply, and by the time she'd registered the tired brusqueness in his tone, he was already brushing the leaves off his opposite shoulder. Her mouth was still hanging open, even as he sighed and stood, and she was so curious, and so confused, but he was already up and she was still down, and it was time to run.

"Yeah," she murmured, wiping the debris off her knees. "I guess so." Unthinkingly, she grabbed his outstretched hand and pulled herself up and onto the open grass. She stood and stretched, long and lean, and the realization of what she'd done hit her only after the warmth of his hand had already fallen away.

"Come on," he nodded toward a particularly dense cluster of trees and took off at a slow, easy pace. "I know another path that's killer on the quads."

"And that's supposed to entice me _how_?" she asked, falling into step.

"With inclines like these, not even a hill like Double D will be able to stop you."

"Double D?"

"Wow," Tahno mused, picking up the tempo. "You really are new, aren't you?"

"Listen, _pal_—"

"Double D is the most outrageous hill on any of the local courses. What it lacks in distance, it makes up for in slope… and it belongs to yours truly."

"But _Double D_? I mean, where the heck would you get a name like—"

He sent her a meaningful look.

"Oh… Oh, _seriously? _Of all the crude, sexist—"

"Just think of how many fewer seconds of wall sits will be spent in pain," he lured, and as they crossed over the line of pine trees, he tossed another haughty smirk back over his shoulder. "If that isn't enticing enough, then I don't know what is."

"Ugh," she groaned.

Because, strangely enough, it was.

She ran alongside him into the trees, hand still tingling.


	5. three point seven five

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **Pairing(s): **Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra, one-sided Bolin/Korra **  
Genre:** Romance/Friendship/Drama  
**Word Count: **3,293  
**Rating:** PG-13/T  
**Summary: **The life and love of running, autumn, and high school cross-country. — Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra. AU.

**Author's Notes: ** _11/26/12._Ugh, sorry. FFNET messed up the formatting on the chapter and I had to go back through it and do it all by hand. D: It wasn't that big of a deal, but I was feeling super lazy. (And it's just a filler chapter this time, too! Sorry!) Also! My student teaching takeover week is NEXT WEEK, so I'm getting pretty stressed... wish me luck! There's going to be a lot of wine in the near future.

**Musical Inspiration: **"Dirty Little Secret" by The American Rejects. (Throooooowbaaaaaack.)

Beta'd by the ever-patient **ebonyquill**. Love you, Alison!

* * *

**3.75**_  
_

* * *

_Whatever. You know you'd rather be talking to me._

Korra could hear the lockers being jerked open and slammed shut around her, but she didn't spare them a second glance. _Instead of chemistry? _She texted back. _Um. Duh. Nobody actually likes thinking about bonds or bases or whatever._

"Korra!" Bolin came through the hallway, bursting through clusters of small crowds. "Ready for last period?"

Her head snapped up. "Oh! Bolin, hey," she said, hastily shoving her phone in her pocket and arranging her books for the rest of the day. "What are you doing all the way over here? I thought you had a class down in the arts wing."

"Oh, I do, but Thursdays are free-for-all days. We get assignments on Mondays, and then we use the rest of the week to take shots and develop them as needed until Friday." He lifted a bulky black bag from across his shoulder that Korra hadn't noticed before—his camera—and understanding slowly dawned.

"Ugh," Korra groaned. "Must be nice. I'm stuck taking all the stupid core classes."

"Have you ever taken intro classes for any of the subjects before?" he asked curiously, stepping into line beside her.

"Yeah, right. What would I have needed formal classes for?" Korra scoffed. "Biology? Please. For seventeen years, I ate, slept, and _breathed_ biology. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to have to sit through even one block of Mr. Yakone's ecology unit? God," she muttered, kicking at the floor. "Do you know that he _actually_ thought that polar bears live in the antarctic?"

"Well, I—"

"The man doesn't know up from down, let alone north from south. And forget about correcting him... Ugh, I've already learned my lesson," she grumbled. "I swear, now it's like he's out to get me or something."

"I don't really think that—"

"Sorry," she interrupted again. "We were talking about your photography class, weren't we?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Man, I do that all the time. Sorry, I'm really trying to—"

"Korra," Bolin cut in firmly, gripping her elbow to keep her from interrupting. He was laughing, but mostly to himself, and that helped to keep Korra's natural defensiveness at bay. "Isn't your class in the other direction?"

Korra blinked. "Crap. And the hallways are already starting to empty out! When the bell rings, I'm gonna be a sitting duck."

"At least you don't have Yakone next?"

"Uh, yeah, little good that does me when I have chemistry with Beifong!" she huffed, severely picking up her pace. "Bolin, I swear, I've gotten to know plenty of miners, but I've never met anyone more in love with minerals than that woman."

"You have Beifong?" Bolin lit up. "You should have told me! I had her last semester—her research on metal compounds is _astounding_! She made me see the metal elements in a whole new light! Did you know that the officers of the Chem Club made a video tribute to her? It was set to that club hit that came out last year, Titanium—"

"Bolin, faster walking, faster talking, please," she nearly hissed, almost jogging now. If she didn't get to class _precisely_ on time, she was a dead, dead woman. "And in case you haven't heard, she's another one of the many, many teachers who seem to despise me for no apparent reason."

"What makes you think that she doesn't like you?"

"Too much," Korra scoffed, feeling a little breathless. She'd made good time, so she was sure that she was going to make it. Mostly. "I feel like I have to be on my toes every second, you know? Like she's just waiting for me to slip up."

"Dude, she's like that with everyone," Bolin smiled, and he didn't sound nearly as breathless as she did, Korra noted a bit enviously. "The other teachers are totally afraid of her, too."

"Uhh, do you blame them?"

"I'm just sayin'! I have no shame in admitting that I am horribly, deathly terrified of her, but you can't deny that she's brilliant! And I mean, if you ever run into any trouble with her, you could always just bring it up to Coach Tenzin."

Korra's sneakers came to a screeching halt. "Tenzin?" Korra demanded, feeling her palms begin to sweat. _Mako! _Her mind bellowed._ That little rat! _ "Why would I want to talk to Tenzin about it?"

Bolin blinked. "Uhh, well... Because they have this weird, freaky teacher relationship thing going on? And Tenzin's one of the only people that she'll listen to on the staff? Even though I hear that there's like, some really juicy backstory or something—"

"Bolin, stop gossiping about our coach," she hissed, trying to act indignant and start walking again at the same time. She was really just relieved that Mako hadn't blabbed as she'd feared. And super curious, of course, about this new discovery regarding her uncle having some sort of dynamic going on with her most, ah... _challenging_ teacher. Korra briefly wondered if this could be worked to her advantage. "Plus, the other teacher's classroom is—oh, I don't know,_ less than twenty feet away from us_." Bolin merely laughed.

"All right, sorry," he said, though he barely looked like he meant it. "I have to run, anyway. I've gotta head out to the soccer fields while the light is still good. The leaves around there are gorgeous, but they're already starting to drop. Plus, it's supposed to rain later and it's already getting cloudy."

"But," Korra began, and her brows furrowed as they neared the open door to her chemistry classroom. Only the unluckiest or most apathetic of students were still lingering in the halls now. "The closest exit to the fields are all the way back on the other side of school, by my locker..."

Bolin merely grinned. "I know," he said, readjusting the strap on his shoulder, and Korra felt something in her stomach spin uncontrollably, plummet, and harden in the dreary pit. "I'll see you at practice, Korra."

She didn't realize that she was waving goodbye until he rounded the corner and she just happened to see her hand in front of her face, aimlessly moving back and forth. With a sudden jolt, Korra turned back toward the classroom door, ignoring the dull ache of guilt and confusion and _crap, this isn't working, I need to talk to him soon when—_

"Good afternoon, Korra."

It was a testament to her character that she did not flinch.

"Afternoon, Ms. Beifong," she managed, however strained.

The commanding presence was enough to make most students tremble with fear, and in a way, Korra truly lamented the loss of whatever potential they might have had to get off to a good start; Korra was the kind of woman who could appreciate this sort of brutal strength, but as a sable brow rose in deep disapproval, all tightness and rigid power, she knew that it just wasn't meant to be.

For a brief moment, Korra wondered if she was simply going to shut the door in her face.

"It's... _Beifong_," said the woman sternly; impatience emanated from every inch of her. Distantly, Korra could hear a piercing sound ringing in her ears; it was the bell. "We are so... _honored_ that you could join us."

_Don't say anything, don't say anything, just go to your seat, Korra, do not open your big mouth, do not do not do not not not not not not not—_

She sat down in her seat with a poorly concealed sigh of relief, but the boy who tried to get in after her wasn't so lucky; he, unfortunately, did get the door slammed in his face.

"Now that we have all made the decision to get down to business," she began, arms crossed behind her rigid spine. "Put your books back away. Apparently, we need to do some work on the value of being prepared."

_Crap._

"Pop. Quiz."

And as the class released a chorus of groans, Korra thought that, just maybe, she'd talk to Tenzin on the drive home, after all...

* * *

She'd been sitting for eighty minutes and yet, _somehow_, she was exhausted; Korra had always known deep in the heart of her soul that humans were not meant to sit still for so long.

And the clock was still ticking.

Beifong was the kind of teacher that taught all the way up to the last minute, the kind that would rail you if you even so much as shifted your books into a more orderly and portable fashion before dismissal, and today, just like any other Thursday, was no exception. Korra was trying to pay attention, but it was nearly impossible; not only was she totally and utterly done with this class—this day, this _week—_but for some reason, she was also really anxious to get out on the track. Bolin talked a lot about how people could get addicted to running—_well and truly addicted_—and while Korra wasn't exactly sure how she felt about running anymore, there was this undeniable itch she felt, this restlessness in her legs that made her especially jittery. This made today's chemistry class unusually troublesome because, like a predator smelling its prey's fear, students joked that Beifong could pick out a distracted student from three classrooms away; given Korra's nature of expertise, she wasn't so sure it was a joke.

_So close..._

"All right, fine," Beifong sighed loudly. "I've had enough of you lot. Pack up your things. You are dismissed—but mark my words, one day, one of you will learn something yet."

Korra was out the door before Beifong had even got to _learn_. And she didn't stop there.

She was down the hallway and around the corner in three minutes flat, which was almost half the time it took her to get there in the first place, so by the time the bell rang, she'd already beaten the worst of the crowds. But not all of them. "Come on," she mumbled under her breath, trying not to roll her eyes at a small group of freshmen taking up most of the hallway space. They were laughing about something or other, and shouting, and usually Korra would be interested in such things, but today she was in a hurry. Actually, once she took a closer look, it seemed like everyone was crowding around something in particular... something that was hung on the walls. A poster of some kind.

"Awesome," she muttered, and pushed through. A small freshman boy yelped as she drove past, but one pointed huntress look from Korra silenced him immediately. Yet by the time she reached her locker, she was already tired and frustrated. It was strange; her body still felt jumpy with need, like she'd been _craving_ a run, but now that the prospect of practice was finally upon her... Well. It wasn't what she really wanted, was it? She all but tossed her books into the metal cage, and when it came time to select what to bring home for homework, she drew a total blank. _Crap_, Korra thought, rapping her knuckles against the open door. _Crap_.

She had to talk to Bolin.

Korra threw a hand up over the locker's top, curling her fingers around the metal door, and let herself hang, resting her forehead against the coolness of the cheap paint. It wasn't like she had loads of experience in turning boys down—especially friendly, friend boys who made her life a little less close to hell—and while she knew perfectly well what she could say, she wasn't sure what she _should_.

A nearby locker slammed shut and her head jerked upward; in no time at all, Korra realized that she was in the midst of a packed hallway, and was draping herself over an open locker door with her books a mess and her bag and her feet. Annoyed, she quickly straightened herself out before anyone could fully notice. _Ugh. Ever the social butterfly, Korra._ She was just zipping up her bag when her phone vibrated, and Korra's fingers froze against the flimsy plastic.

_Speaking of. _

Korra pulled herself to her full height and closed her locker, taking one final reconnaissance glance around her as she threw the strap of her bag over her shoulder, slowly made her way down the hall... and slipped out her phone.

Where she found three messages waiting for her.

The most recent:_ Seriously, have you gotten lost over there or what? _

The previous:_ Somehow I hadn't pegged you as the kind of girl who actually pays attention in class. _

Korra huffed, flipping open the keypad and wrote with forceful fingers: _Yeah, well, maybe a White Falls senior doesn't need to, but this junior Fire Fox needs to pass at least __some__ of her classes, okay?_ She snapped the phone shut and clutched the strap of her bag with irritated fists, but only made it two more steps before she snatched it back out into the open. _Also_, she typed. _It'd be impossible to get lost in a place like this._

As she traveled down the rest of the hall, this time with her phone clutched in her fingers, Korra wondered at the nature of her sudden irritation. It was like someone had dug up all the channels beneath her skin and filled them with liquid electricity, sending shocks that rattled up and down her bones, and swept across her skin in uncomfortable waves. She craved a run with every fiber of her being, but she had to wonder, what with the way things were going now—was running really going to cut it?

Maybe she should have done a better job convincing Tenzin to let her take up boxing.

"Afternoon, Korra," Asami chirped as Korra entered the locker room. She hadn't been watching where she was going, having already grown accustomed to the steps leading toward the girls' side of the gym many weeks ago, and when she looked up at the sound of the familiar voice, she got an eyeful of Asami's perfect stomach and perfect chest, both made even lovelier by the deep red bra and the cascade of curls, come loose from its typical style. Korra forced herself to keep passing through, to start herself up again before Asami's shirt was pulled fully over her head and she got caught staring, but her "hello" sounded muffled even to her own ears.

Korra trudged her things back to the far corner of the locker room, the space she usually liked best, and threw her duffle bag onto the tiled floor. For a moment, she stood like that, arms crossed, brow furrowed, phone in hand, and mind in a million different places at once.

"Ridiculous," she muttered to herself, but it wasn't enough to make her feel any less worse.

In a weird way, Korra had always known she was hot.

But Asami was _hot_.

And despite whatever physical perfection Asami might have been gifted with, Korra didn't mean it in the way that many misogynistic assholes in the advertising industry who regularly objectified women as sexual toys would have; Asami was a naturally, genuinely beautiful kind of girl, with a lovely smile and an open heart and the kind of loyal toughness that could make Korra feel incredibly, incredibly selfish. It was Asami with whom she should have felt closest, but it was Asami with whom felt the least at ease; being around this girl over the last few weeks—on the track, in the cafeteria, among the trees—it made her realize just how much thinking she did about _herself_... and only herself.

And here she was, doing it again.

"Ugh," Korra groaned, dropping her head into her hands. A flash image of Mako spiraled through her mind and she thought: Had coming to high school really made her this shallow? Or had it always been this way? Maybe she'd just never been around _people_ enough to notice.

Korra may not have had much experience in speaking to boys, but she certainly had plenty of experience in besting them, and she knew the kind of devastating effect that demolishing an opponent in a snowboard race could have on men her age—especially if the opponents _were_ the men. Korra knew that she was the kind of girl that boys liked to rough around with, the kind that played practical jokes with them and did unladylike things in public, and she knew this with bone-deep intensity, with heartfelt confidence. It was _her_. She was Korra.

And Korra supposed that she was beautiful, but this was much harder to tell.

"Idiot," she mumbled under her breath, and tore off her shirt over her head in one full, jerky sweep of the arm. In some primal, petty display of will, she left her shirt off longer than necessary, even long after she'd dug up her sports bra from the bottom of the bag. She'd never questioned her physique before—_athletic, muscular, strong_—and had never even considered questioning her arms and legs as tools, so the very idea of being self-conscious or unsure of her body, of this _machine_, was ridiculous.

Enough of comparing Asami's body to hers. Enough of wondering where on her body Mako liked to kiss and whether or not his favorite color was red or where on _his_ body those long red fingernails might have touched. Enough of thinking about friendly boys she wished she could just rough around with and of other just-friend boys she just wanted to roughen up.

Her cell phone buzzed on the wooden bench off to the side, and she sagged down against the cold metal lockers to read it. _Don't kid yourself, new girl,_ the message read, and the bitter feel of it left something dark and hollow in the pit of her already twisted stomach. _Nobody here knows where they are._

Korra sat alone in the back corner of the locker rooms, in nothing but her jeans and her baby blue bra, listening to the distant chatter of her team trickling in to get ready for the practice ahead, feeling the currents streak through her veins, and it occurred to her then that there was another kind of boy in her life now, too. That there was a friendless boy who wasn't really so rough, after all.

_You want to run after practice? _she typed, without thinking. She half-expected some jaded remark or some cagey, defiant jab about her foolishness, maybe even some offhand remark about her inferiority, but that wasn't how it happened.

_Yeah,_ he said instead. _Why not?_ Korra released the exhale she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and—

"Almost ready, Korra?" called a teammate from further down the aisle. She started, and nearly dropped the phone from her grasp, but she called back a hurried _Yeah!_ and hastily went about tearing off her jeans. Most of the girls were already making their way toward the wrestling room, where they started their daily practices, but Korra had barely managed to get her shoelaces untied. There was a shakiness to her fingers now, and a rolling, undulating spread of energy creeping over the goosebumps along her skin. She wanted to go. She wanted to run. The phone buzzed again and—

_Meet you at 7?_

_Yeah_, she replied, and she felt like a crazy person—because hair was still only half-up and her shirt was only half-on and her breathing was out of control—but she didn't care. _Why not? _

And then, purely by accident, her finger hit the screen, and it was then that the messages scrolled upward. She'd forgotten about his original text.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

_It depends on what kind of bases you're talking about._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._


	6. three point eight zero

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.  
**Pairing(s): **Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra, one-sided Bolin/Korra  
**Genre:** Romance/Friendship/Drama  
**Word Count: **3,293  
**Rating:** PG-13/T  
**Summary: **The life and love of running, autumn, and high school cross-country. — Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra. AU.

* * *

**Author's Notes:  
**_11/30/12._I feel like this chapter is a lot choppier, which is actually how I wanted all the chapters to be originally. :P I'm sorry if it seems jarring—I think I spoiled us all with the relatively seamless transitions of the last few chapters. Ironically, THAT WAS NOT WHAT I WANTED.

_12/14/12. _Crap. These chapters are getting a lot longer and longer and the plot keeps writing itself and then I get impatient and post chapters in halves and _shit_, now I have another full-fledged multi-chapter fic on my hands, don't I? I definitely want to have this done and complete before the new year... Wish me luck?

**Musical Inspiration: **"Zero" by Varsity Fanclub. I think this is now the official theme song of this fic.

_**Personal Record **_**Fan Art: **Please check out Cheyenne's (**Yuki119**) gorgeous drawing set from the first chapter! You can find her lovely artwork **here**:

yuki119** . **tumblr . com **/ **post** / **37759638653** / **it-wasnt-long-before-her-eyes-caught-sight-of

Thank you!

**Beta'd **by **ebonyquill**.

* * *

**3.80**

* * *

But practice didn't exactly start off on the right foot.

If Korra was being honest with herself—and really, she _was_ trying to be—then she'd have to admit that it probably had something to do with the fact that she was starting to feel a little guilty about her texts to Tahno. It's not like she felt like she was doing anything _wrong, _per se—of that, she was sure; she just felt like maybe she wasn't doing something right either.

Bolin ran alongside her during the warm-up, chattering all the way, and because they were surrounded by dozens of other people and she didn't—_couldn't_—do much of the talking, she let it be. Instead, Korra half-listened, and spent most of her time wondering why she honestly hadn't told anybody yet about her runs with Tahno. They _were_ just runs through the park, after all... and okay, maybe a few—_questionable_—texts here and there—_whenever possible_—but then again, things _were_ pretty complicated; it's not like she ever expected to make pseudo-peace where there were generations' worth of burning inter-school rivalry that, by the way, most of which she'd been unwittingly thrown into. Technically speaking, Tahno was the enemy—_the opposition_—not to mention a notorious school player. (And if she was listening to the rumors from her teammates—and really, she was trying _not _to—then that meant both in school and, well... _out._)

Korra was also particularly trying not to think too much into the conversation she'd overheard between Asami and some of her other teammates earlier that week and, well, it's not like she hadn't _known _before that wolverines were not the kind to forge strong bonds, right?

But that seemed to mean very little to Korra today.

"Hey, Korra," Bolin quickly turned to her, taking advantage of the small break they'd been granted from a red stoplight, and breaking her from her moody thoughts. They ran in place while they wanted for the light to turn, which always made Korra feel foolish, but she wasn't about to let herself rest and make it all the more difficult on herself when it came time catch up... and from the looks of it, the two of them were going to have to book it to make it back to the track on time with the others. _Stupid red light. Stupid drivers. Stupid crosswalk. Stupid—_

"Yeah?" she rasped, trying to keep her cool as her eyes bore holes into the backs of her team captains, all the way up at the front of the herd; their backs kept flying farther and farther away, almost to the bend.

"Look... there's something I've been meaning to ask you lately," Bolin began, and immediately Korra felt this sinking feeling in her chest. "I don't know how much you've heard about how we celebrate the real start of the athletic season here, but there's this... this _thing_ coming up—"

But it was at that precise moment that Mako chose to look back; Korra wasn't entirely sure what he saw, but she heard his voice—_Let's move! What's the hold up back there?_—and then the light turned, and they were running, _sprinting_ to catch up, and soon the warm-up was over and there was no more time for talk because, suddenly, she was in the midst of the hardest practice of her life, and Korra didn't have the extra space in her world to _breathe_, let alone think.

* * *

"Tahno and his Wolverines are still the number one to beat, but we can't underestimate the other invites. These Northside brothers mean business."

"Northside brothers?" Korra muttered to Bolin, keeping her eyes trained on Mako's ongoing speech. The sky was a gloomy gray backdrop to his stoic figure, and if Korra were the kind of girl to believe in omens—_and maybe she was_—then today probably wasn't the kind she'd like to bet on.

"Yeah," Bolin whispered back, obviously perturbed by whatever Mako was talking about. "This family just moved into the area this year, and the two brothers are apparently some force to be reckoned with in the running world. The story is that they moved closer to be with their dad—your Biology teacher, actually—"

"Wait—_what_?"

"What? It's really not all that uncommon around here. Our teachers' benefits packages are actually really competitive, you know, so of course they try to bring in—"

"You're seriously trying to tell me that these guys—these brothers—are related to _Yakone_?" she hissed.

"Supposedly, anyway," he whispered back, hunching over to hide behind another player; Mako was not afraid to call out secondhand conversations, after all.

Korra made a face. "Awesome."

"Hey! Leave the judgment for the court, man. Just because Yakone is a little crazy in the head doesn't mean that his kids are equally as crazy."

"Yeah, _okay_, man."

"But, you know... there _has_ been a lot of talk that there's some sort of under the table bribery to get them down here, and if you ask _me—"_

"Bolin, are you always this full of gossip?"

"Korra, this is serious stuff, I'll have you know."

"We have worked too hard this year to lose our focus now!" Mako called out, and the rising murmur of assent brought Korra back to the larger group. "White Falls is always a challenging course... but this year, we're ready. It all comes down to the details now... Remembering to stretch. Drinking plenty of water. In light of this Saturday, our family dinner will be postponed until next week. Instead, Coach Tenzin has prepared recommended eating plans for tomorrow night, so be sure to choose your fuel wisely. Make sure you—"

"Geez," Korra breathed. "This is intense."

"It's White Falls territory," Bolin said quietly, and Korra was surprised not to hear an ounce of a joke in his tone.

"Different ball game?" Korra whispered more quietly, noting the almost reverent air about her teammates as they listened to Mako's pre-meet advice.

"Try a different _league."_

"Most importantly," Mako announced, pausing to ensure that he had one hundred percent attention. "You have worked hard for weeks, but today you gave it your all. This is it. Now what matters most is that we take care of ourselves; our success depends on our being prepared, and for this, tonight and tomorrow are about two things: focus... and rest."

Korra's ears perked.

"No matter what happens on Saturday, we're still a team," Mako's voice rose, and Korra could _feel _the group rising with him. She could feel the goosebumps raising, prickling, over her arms. "We train just as hard as any of those private school kids... and this year we're gonna show those mangy wolves just how fast the foxes can be!" he shouted, pumping his fist into the air, and the entire team burst into cheers. Save Korra.

"Wolverines," Korra whispered to herself, stupidly. There was something lumpy and hard between her ribs, and it might have been her heart.

"Stuff _that_ in your wallet, White Falls!" Bolin yelled, offering a long, howling whoop, and it reverberated all the way down her spine.

"The only thing that spreads faster than wildfire is_ fox fire_!" Asami called from atop a mountain of sandbags, and the team rose up in a wave of cheers to meet her broad, dangerous smile.

"In two days," Mako shouted over the team's uproar, sweeping a long arm around Asami's shoulders. "We prove that Tahno of the White Falls Wolverines _isn't_ the only runner out here!"

"It's the year of the _fox_!" Asami called.

In the space of a single moment, Mako's arms wound tighter around Asami's slender shoulders, Korra and Mako locked gazes, and Korra felt her entire awareness shrink and narrow to a pair of golden eyes.

The team converged around her, pressing inward until she was trapped in the middle of giant, moving, living huddle, and it was all Korra could do to bring her hands together, and clap.

* * *

"You're late."

Korra looked up and, at first, she could barely see him. The early evening fog was rolling in, and the muted colors of the soon-to-be rain made it all the easier for Tahno's dark sweatshirt to blend in with the dampness of the trees. The seasons were already shifting and, like her, he was dressed for the weather.

"It's not even five after," Korra countered mildly, honestly a little too surprised to be annoyed. Yet. "I'm only three minutes late."

"Yeah, but something tells me it wasn't fashionably so," he said as he rose from the mossy, overturned log on which he'd been sitting. "And those are the only kind of late excuses I forgive."

"I'll make a note," she huffed, coming to stop just a few feet away from where he stood. Korra crossed her arms, feeling her heels sink into the wet leaves, and wondered why she was trying so hard to fight a smile.

"Don't bother. I'm sure you have plenty from your busy day at school, and it's not like you'll read any of them anyway."

"Hey, man, I didn't come all the way out here to—"

"Although if you're going to be taking notes, you _should _be taking them from me."

"Right," she cut in dryly. "Like from those private lessons you once so graciously offered?"

"Like from the ones you've been so ungraciously attending week after week."

"Is that what these are?" Korra cocked her head to the side, unable to keep a completely straight face.

"Then I'm going to have to talk to somebody about a refund. I'm not gonna lie, the performance around here has kinda sucked."

"Well," he replied slowly, taking a languid step closer, and Korra's heart picked up. "Perhaps your inadequacy has more to do with your lack of proper motivation?"

"Not a chance. I know a shitty teacher when I see one."

He faltered, but if it was her language that he was surprised by, she wouldn't know; he took another step closer. "Then perhaps you would respond more favorably to... say, a more _direct _approach to learning?"

Korra instinctively took a step back. "Meaning...?"

Tahno only smiled.

"I'll give you thirty seconds to guess."

* * *

"You're still just as crazy as ever," he rasped, and Korra could almost _feel _the breaths rising in and out of the chest beside her on the wet, mossy ground. The dampness was seeping into her spine, but she didn't mind; on the other hand, Aunt Pema was probably kill her for the grass stains on her hoodie, but that was a problem that would just have to be sorted out later.

"Maybe," she coughed, and she hoped she was just imagining the coppery taste of blood; this couldn't be a very healthy way to go about running, but it wasn't like she wasn't used to pushing herself a little too hard when it came to anything else in life, right? "But at least I'm faster now."

"Yeah," he laughed, and it turned into a deep, deep cough. "Maybe."

She lifted her head, just a fraction, to get a better look at his profile. "What on earth was that? I've never heard you so much as even sniffle before."

"Apparently, even _I _have my limits," he groused, flicking a bent twig off of his elbow, before sending her a pointed glare. "If I catch a cold before Saturday's meet, there will be hell to pay."

"_Please,_" she scoffed. "If that's what you're worried about, then you're worrying over nothing. You may be great at outrunning things, but you suck at catching them."

"Ohh, aren't we clever," he dryly replies, only it's anything but _dry_ because he was covered head to toe with foggy mist and laying supine on a pile of soggy leaves. "And I'm serious. This isn't just another meet."

"I don't get it," Korra shrugs, thinking back to an hour and a half before, in which she was locked together with a pile of raging teenagers. "What's _so_ special about this one? I mean, I know your team is really good—"

"Unbeatable."

"Yeah, right, whatever, _really good_. I just... I know that teams are really protective of their home territory, but—"

"It's not just about being territorial, although that's part of it," he explained, taking on a more serious tone; the switch never ceased to surprise her. "It's prime recruitment time for Division One teams."

_Oh_, thought Korra.

"Colleges are doing their shopping, so-to-speak, and there are going to be scouts all over the place," he continued, now talking animatedly, more so than she'd ever heard before. "They've been watching us seniors pretty closely all year, but Saturday is going to be absolutely critical. Our invitational hosts the biggest collection of runners out of any of the schools in the five surrounding counties, and we have a reputation to uphold. We're not just the returning regional champs, new girl; we're the three-years-in-a-row _state_ champions. And I'm not just Tahno of the White Falls Wolverines, star runner of the tri-state area; I'm Tahno, captain of the _three-time _state championship team, _three-time_ top state finisher, three-time holder of All-Region, All-County, All-Area and All-League cross-country honors, and three-time qualifier for nationals. And our team's and town's finest prospect."

Abruptly, he scoffed. "I'm not just in this to be in it," he explained, with a hint of derision. "While your ferrets are looking to scoop up a few extra medals, I'm looking toward one day being invited into the most elite NCAA Division One final championships in the country."

Korra fidgeted with the stem of a leaf, feeling at a bit of a loss as to what to say and, honestly, a little in awe. "Different ball game?" she whispered.

"Yeah, try a different _league_. This meet is the most valuable meet of my young running career," he scoffed a derisive laugh, and Korra wondered why, but didn't know how to ask.

"So... you need to win?" Korra tried to clarify his concerns. "But you always win."

Tahno looked at her then, almost as if he were taken aback by the sureness in her voice.

"What?" she asked, a little flustered. "You just said it yourself. Top state finisher, or whatever, three years running."

"I need to do more than just win. I need to win by a mile."

"Uhh, literally? Or just—"

"Its a _figure of speech_, new girl," he rolled his eyes, but she could see the barest traces of smile cracking, and so hers eventually leaked out, too. Just a little. "On top of everything else, I'm not just racing for admissions; I'm racing for scholarships."

Something about the way it hung in the air felt like he revealed a lot more about himself than he would have liked to. Korra went still, holding tight to the crumbling leaf in her hand, and tried not to feel so awkward. Or naïve. But because she and her family—although arguably nontraditional—were pretty well off, changing those feelings were sort of... difficult; being the daughter of the world's chief wildlife expert of the tundras—with all its perks and privileges—could have that effect, you know.

"Are you ready?" she asked him, because she wanted to know. Korra wasn't sure if she was more annoyed or relived by his smirk.

"They don't stand a chance... provided that some wild girl from the arctic doesn't get me pneumonia."

"It's the _ant_arctic, actually—"

"Shit," he muttered darkly, propelling himself upward at the waist. Korra witnessed a cascade of dead, moldy leaves fall from the fabric at his hood, but he was staring so intently into the space of the clearing beyond the cover of their trees that she didn't bother to mention it. "It's not letting up."

Korra didn't know what he was so antsy about, but then she sat up, and she saw it too. She gasped. Instead of passing through, it was raining _harder_.

"I thought it wasn't supposed to get bad until later tonight!" she hissed. "The meteorologist said that we could expect a slight afternoon drizzle."

"New girl, this is New England. And who actually says meteorologist in casual conversation? Call him the _weather man_ like everybody else."

"It was a _female _meteorologist, thank you very much—"

"Whatever, don't care," he stood abruptly.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, hastily rising up herself. She could feel sticks and other such fun items tumbling down her back. "Where are you going?"

"We gotta get out of this," Tahno shook his head, looking grim and irritated as he stared out into the clearing, but she could see his calculating mind at work. "Rain or no rain, the temp is dropping and I'm not gonna stick around until I really do get pneumonia. How far is your house from here?"

"It's still at least three miles or so," she shrugged.

"Well, that makes things simpler. Mine is only two."

"What?"

"Come on. This rain isn't going away anytime soon."

"Um. Where are we going?"

He smirked.

"It's time you checked out your neighbors."

* * *

**Next Chapter Preview:**

"You know, your eyes remind me of glaciers," and _wow—_way to go, Korra. Way to _not_ sound weird or anything.


	7. three point eight five

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed. **Pairing(s): **Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra, one-sided Bolin/Korra  
**Genre:** Romance/Friendship/Drama  
**Word Count: **(Hell, if I know.)**  
****Rating:** PG-13/T  
**Summary: **The life and love of running, autumn, and high school cross-country. — Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra. AU.

**Author's Notes: **_1/14/13. _For those of you who don't know, I grew up in a small town in Upstate New York and I now live near Boston. Most of the backdrop for this story has been hugely inspired by these climates, this scenery, and my own personal high school experiences with running cross-country. For this particular chapter, I highly encourage you to look up pictures of the famous glens located in the Finger Lakes. I went there all the time as a little girl, and my memories of walking through the gorges in the fall are always very, very vivid. I've also traveled extensively through Tierra del Fuego (most notably Ushuaia and Calafate), and have spent a great deal of time studying in Argentina and Peru. If you hadn't known that before, well... now you do. ;)

**Musical Inspiration: **"It's Time" by Imagine Dragons and "Ho Hey" by The Lumineers. (And maybe "SECRET TUNNEL.")

**Beta'd **by the lovely **ebonyquill**, as always. Such beautiful insight, gah.

* * *

**3.85**

* * *

"Why do I feel like I should be waiting for someone to just pop out at any moment and clock me?"

"_Relax_, new girl. Nobody's going to recognize you. Besides, we're not even out of the woods yet."

This was not the first time Korra had run along the perimeter of the park walls, but taking that first step outside the western archway was still something of a thrill for Korra. And by _thrill_, of course, Korra privately admitted that it was actually something more like _crap—what the hell am I doing? _Outside of the inter-city park, it was all woods; if not for the beige brick wall steadily growing smaller and smaller behind her, she may never have even realized that she was currently on her way into enemy territory.

"Look, I told you," he sighed. "Nobody's outside right now in the first place, so relax your fists already. You're just making it harder on yourself to stay balanced."

"I'm _not _nervous," she claimed.

"I never said you were," he smirked at her. She still didn't like the knowing look in his eyes.

"It's so _big_," she observed in between breaths, staring up at the towering trees and blinking away the drops of rain. Most of the leaves were gone, but the height and thickness of the trunks were still impressive. "I didn't realize how much of it there really is."

"A lot of people never fully realize how deep it goes." Korra looked at him, intrigued by the tone she heard in his voice. "Do you run through here every day?"

Then they jumped, sailing through the air over a fallen tree trunk, and the soles of their feet landed softly in a blanket of soft, wet leaves. It was hard to explain, the feeling of breathing in the crisp air, feeling the chill of raindrops pelt her skin as she pushed herself forward, the impossible burn in her muscles against the cold and the wet, and the wind whipping at her hair—and with Tahno beside her—she could hear their steps moving in tandem, their breaths matching in the steady rhythm of the rain, with their arms swinging at their sides, and it was like—it was almost like they were—

—_flying_.

Instead of fighting it, Korra let her smile spread wide, feeling the rain against her teeth, in her eyes, in her hair and—Tahno must have been feeling the same way, because—she could hear the sharp breath of laughter beside her, the cool wisp of air curling in the cold.

He looked at her and she looked at him, and he said, "Every day I can."

* * *

"Let's take the scenic route."

"Um. Excuse me? I thought the point was to get _out_ of the rain. And isn't _this_ the scenic route?"

"Don't be such a stick in the mud. It's right here."

"Don't be—_don't _be—well, look who's talking Mr. _ugh-if-your-peasant-ways-get-me-sick-ugh-then-I'm-going-to-use-my-big-head-of-hair-to—_"

"Here."

"Oh," she said, coming to a quick stop behind him, but not quick enough; she rammed herself right into his shoulder. "You weren't kidding."

When he looked back at her, with his amused brow in full quirk, her scowl was ready for him. "Watch your step."

"Yeah, whatever," she mumbled, watching her step as Tahno lifted back a stray branch and led the way down a muddy path. The gentle slope carried them down, down, down, growing steeper with each footfall, until Korra had to hold onto the skinny trunks of sapling trees and sturdy rocks to maneuver her way down. As she came closer to the thick row of pines, she could hear a river flowing, and when she opened her mouth to ask Tahno where they were going, he slipped through the line of trees and disappeared from sight. Frowning, she followed and—

"_Whoah_."

"Careful, new girl," he smiled slowly. "You're gonna catch one too many raindrops with your mouth hanging open like that."

It was magnificent.

With just a mere few steps, she too was through the thick underbrush**,** and found herself on the stone walkway carved into one side of a long, gaping canyon. She could see that the gorge extended as far as a mile, but she was sure that it must have continued on even farther. Along the path in the woods, everything had seemed gray and brown but fresh, and here—_here—_it was like she had entered some foreign world where everything was lush and damp and thriving.

"Come on," he said, gesturing with a tilt of his head to follow. So she did, wordlessly.

They carefully made their way over the slippery limestone beneath their feet, climbing up flights of manmade stairs composed of large boulders and sheets of shale stacked over one another along the cliff-face. Eventually, they would come to a bridge or two, mortared with the large stones of the riverbed, and they would stop to look down—_up, around, everywhere_—to take it all in. The soft rustling of leaves bathed in the rain, the steady churn of the river below... Korra had seen it all before, and yet... _Nothing really compares. _

_Does it?_

Through dark, cavernous pathways and spiraling, chiseled tunnels, up and down they went, passing by natural sculptures of rock and earth under the lush canopy of the trees towering from the cliffs overhead. At every turn, half-hidden behind every crag, the trickling of water greeted them, either in wide, shallow pools or in steady, flowing drips from the trails above. Waterfalls cascaded over the rocks in all shapes and sizes, and the deeper they went, the larger they became.

"I never knew this was here," Korra said quietly, as they slowly approached another tunnel. Although it wasn't very easy to see before, she could now see from where they were walking that the pathway up ahead didn't _end_; it merely curved and disappeared behind the wide arc of water flowing over the jut of rock above, leading to the tunnel that she now knew was there.

Tahno climbed the steps beside her and laughed. "Where did you think we got our name from? We're not _White Falls _for nothing."

"Yeah, I can see that," she mutters dryly, peeved that he was ruining the moment. "It's just—I don't know. I mean, I'd thought the _park _was a different patch of scenery, but _this_..."

This was like being invited into a private world, tucked away in the secret heart of isolation, far away from cities or civilization. Even with the hand-placed stones at her feet, she could imagine that she was one of the first mortals to visit this place, one of the first souls to blaze its trails.

"Was this—I mean, did someone—"

"The pathway is manmade, but the gorge is natural," he answered, almost as if reading her mind. "The mouth is about a mile and a half down the way we came, just a little farther from where we entered, and leads to the lake," he pointed. "The other side, this way, opens to the state park, where people set up camp. It's also where we'll find the main road."

"State park? As in... a toll? Do people have to pay admission for this?"

He sent her a sly look. "Those who enter through the entrance do."

"Tahno, did we just like—break in to some sort of waterfall sanctuary or something?"

"Consider it a resident's privilege," he said with a careless shrug. Korra frowned at him, but the feeling didn't last.

She opened her mouth to ask another question, something about the layering of sedimentary rock—_oh, if her father could hear her now—_but she wasn't watching as carefully as she should have been, and—for all of her natural grace—she slipped. Luckily, for all of Tahno's natural talent as a runner, his hand-eye coordination wasn't half-bad.

"Careful," he warned, holding tightly onto the smaller hand in his grasp. As she stood, he supported her at the elbow, and didn't let go until she was fully upright. "You'd be surprised at how many sprained ankles and broken bones this glen has claimed."

"Yeah, and then maybe I wouldn't," she laughed, blinking into the spray of the breathtaking cascade almost upon them. When they finally made it under the steady stream of water, Korra literally felt the breath leave her lungs. The whole word was suddenly layered with shades of blue and white; she could feel the cold air nipping at her rain-soaked skin, but she didn't care.

"I can't believe you live here," she said quietly. "If I practically had a gorge in _my_ backyard, I'd never leave."

He shot her a strange, questioning look. "You had to have seen plenty of things like this where you grew up, and I'm sure they were much better than this little crack in the ground. I'm surprised this even fazes you."

And to be honest, so was she.

But how to compare the feeling of standing at the precipice of the Perito Moreno glacier and feeling so _small—_knowing that its sheer size was beyond comprehension to the human eye—to standing here under the steady stream of this little river, with the waterfall thundering loudly in her ears, and feeling the coolness and dampness of the fresh autumn air. In all her travels with her father, over mountains and oceans and through the sky, she'd always felt so small, like she was still just a little girl—who needed her father, who needed someone, who needed to keep looking for her purpose—but here... here, she felt like she was hidden from the world, safe from the pressures of the day, and alone.

_That is..._ she thought with a quick glance to the side.

If she wanted to be.

She turned to him and shrugged, feeling her lips quirk upward as she shook her head. _Forget it_, she thought. _There's just no explaining it._

He smiled then, laughing out a little of his disbelief, before nodding at the space behind her, back in the direction from which they'd come. They made their way back into the open air, began their return trek to the main trail, and left the falls behind.

* * *

Tahno lived in a small apartment in a large complex. It looked nice enough on the outside, made with brick and dark window shutters with empty, symmetrical terra-cotta flower pots on either side of the door, and inside was old and creaky; it left Korra with the distinct impression that perhaps it had been built—_and had become a home_—centuries before she'd even existed. After spending the last month or so in the three-story luxury of Tenzin's old Victorian-style home, she had to admit that this—although still _worlds away—_was at least _somewhat_ closer to what she'd been used to while she and her father's traveling party drifted from base to base across the Land of Fire.

But then she thought of her first ever 2-person 4-season tent—the one she'd gotten for her thirteenth birthday, and had used on every trip ever since—with the reflective door trim and a canopy of mesh walls, manufactured in _optic white_. It even had a snowflap the color of the midnight sky: a deep, inky blue.

She'd brought it with her, of course. It was still folded and rolled up in the single bag of luggage tucked under her bed, untouched and forgotten as it collected dust in its zippered prison. A pang tore through her heart at the thought.

When she'd packed and stowed it away all those weeks ago, Korra hadn't truly expected it remain there. She hadn't believed that there would actually be a chance that she'd stay.

She hadn't thought herself capable of forgetting.

* * *

Narook was rather gruff, but warm and friendly enough, and—to Korra's immense surprise—had actually lived in Alaska for a while. They talked dog breeding and general weather misconceptions made by those who'd never lived near the poles—_which was, of course, essentially everybody_, Korra complained while Narook merely laughed—and he made her a warm cup of tea while she towel-dried her hair in the kitchenette. Narook never mentioned exactly what his relation to Tahno was, and Korra never asked.

They had plenty to talk about while Tahno went to take a 'quick' shower, so Korra let the star runner leave her temporarily alone with minimal grief—_Mr. Ugh-peasant-my-hair-does-not-protect-me-from-the-elements-ugh-I-cannot-brave-the-cold-for-too-long-ugh—_if only to distract herself, of course, from the fact that Tahno was indeed down the hall _taking a shower_. Clearing her throat, Korra listened to the sounds of running water, both inside and out, and tried to enjoy her tea in relative peace.

But soon enough, Narook had to leave for work at the bar he ran down at the marina, and Korra was inevitably left with her thoughts.

"No pneumonia for you, then?" she teased, when he came out only a few minutes later in a considerably drier shirt—_black_—and a pair of sweatpants—_gray_. Seriously, did this guy own any other colors? _And no half hour-long routine to style his hair? Wow, looks like the diva actually meant 'quick,' then, _she thought with a snicker, taking a sip from her tea as he made his way down the narrow hall.

But she felt herself waver when it seemed to lack its usual bite.

_Whatever_, Korra thought to herself, brusquely. _Though... I wonder if he actually __does __take super long in the mornings and if he's just skipping the gel now for my benefit. But then... would that mean that he's actually trying to be conscientious of my time? He doesn't seem like the courteous type. Or maybe he just doesn't care enough? But Tahno is always such a ham when it comes to presentation—he reminds me of one of those little old ladies who never leaves their homes without their rouge and pearls—unless he doesn't consider me worth the trouble? Or maybe—ugh, whatever, stop thinking about his hair and however he thinks of you and—gah! Just __shut up__, __Korra__, shut up._

She was fine. Really. She was seriously okay, and honestly, aside from the random internal diatribe from nowhere, Korra was actually rather comfortable sitting cross-legged at his small table in the kitchenette, holding onto her tea with both hands. His hair was still a little damp, but his skin was flushed with warmth and—to Korra's utter dismay—soon hers was, too.

_Shit._

"I still think you should take one," he eyed her seriously. "Savage wild woman or not, no one is immune to hypothermia."

"Relax, pretty boy," she leaned back into the wooden chair, kicking her feet onto the next seat and feigning all of the typical nonchalance that was now suddenly eluding her. "I'm already mostly dry, anyway."

"Thought you might say that." Korra's hand instinctively flew into the air, catching the bundles of fabric he'd thrown her way.

"What's this?"

"Bathroom's right down the hall," he informed her absently, head already poking through the cabinets. "If you're not going to be reasonable about a warm shower, then you should at least be reasonable about a dry set of clothes."

"Ha," she barked, holding up the bundles to inspect the gray t-shirt in her lap. _Surprise._ "Well, that shows how much you know about me."

Regardless, she took the shirt and shorts, and went to the bathroom to change.

Inside it smelled clean and masculine, and Korra had to restrain herself from peeking in the shower to see what kind of soap he used. Halfway through peeling off her shirt, Korra caught her reflection in the mirror—wet and chilled with eyes wide—and realized that she was in Tahno's bathroom, changing into his clothes. She knew enough about this society now to know that this sort of thing didn't _just happen_, at least not without meaning something; the only problem was that she still didn't entirely know what it meant. At least, not for a guy like Tahno.

And a girl like her.

She wrang out her damp t-shirt over the sink, sighing as she watched the water droplets disappear down the drain. Korra tried to imagine herself telling Bolin about what she'd been up to—or worse, _Mako_—but couldn't. Running in the rain when she was supposed to be resting, soaking herself to the bone in near-winter weather, all right before what was supposed to be the biggest meet of the season? It sounded stupid and reckless even to _her _ ears. Combine that with the additional mess of ending up at the rival's apartment, in his bathroom, wearing nothing but his shorts and a sports bra, and there was a Korra-shaped mess of Korra-sized proportions.

She wasn't kidding about being mostly dry, but it still felt nice to have a touch of warm fabric against her skin. When she looked down, the clothes were inevitably a little big, but nowhere outside the range of what she'd usually be caught wearing, if not a little on the loose side. Korra considered taking her hair down to let it dry more fully, but instead settled on rearranging the bangs and stray strands behind her ears as best she could. When she found herself playing with her cheeks, watching her reflection as she pinched and pulled at the skin at the corners of her lips, it occurred to her that she was stalling; with a gusty sigh, she grabbed the mound of wet clothes from the counter, and opened the door.

Only to immediately close herself back inside.

"What the hell am I doing?" she muttered, gently letting her weight fall back against the door. Korra felt a jump in her chest at the sound of metal clanking from far off down the hall, just at the same moment that she decided, _hell, if I'm going to play rebel, I may as well go all out, right?_

Carefully, she tucked her chin under and covertly nestled her nose into the collar of his t-shirt, inhaling deeply.

* * *

Her hideout was blown by the buzzing of a cellphone from her—_his_—pocket mere moments later.

**From: **Uncle T  
_Where are you? If your dinner gets any colder, my very pregnant wife is going to have a fit.  
_**Received: **Thursday, Oct 18 6:27pm

* * *

"My uncle is going to have a hernia if I don't get home soon," she laughed as she bounded into the kitchen, all but gliding across the hardwood; his floors were very slippery and, thankfully, her socks were very old and worn. _Small victories._ He looked up at her from where he sat at the table, eating a bowl of something she didn't recognize—but then again, she was trying really, very hard not to notice much of anything about him.

"That is a very serious condition," he drawled. Tahno looked only mildly surprised at the abruptness of her return, but he was watching her very intently, which nearly made Korra lose her train of thought.

She cleared her throat and took up the seat adjacent from his at the small table, one that appeared to be meant for no more than two. "It is. I'm going to have to find a way back to greener pastures before it gets too late, or my aunt will kill him, which means that he'll kill _me_. Any idea when the rain will stop?"

"Please," he rolled his eyes, pausing only to take another spoonful of his meal—_soup?_—into his mouth. "Did you think I'd drag you all the way here to have you run six miles back through the rain? Shut up, I'm driving you home."

Korra's eyes blinked, then narrowed. "Ever the hero, all right," she muttered dryly. And what _was _he eating? It looked like tomato paste filled with small, ugly noodles. _Rings? _

"I thought so, too," he smirked. "Which reminds me: I know you've probably got dinner at your house, but there's Spaghetti-Os on the stove if you want some."

"There's what now?" Tahno stared at her blankly. "Spaghetti-Os," he repeated, voice flat. "You know, like—_Spaghetti-Os_? You don't—oh, come on, _everyone_ knows Spaghetti-Os."

"Dude, you're looking at a girl who spent most of her life enjoying common delicacies like alpaca," she smiled, thoroughly enjoying the bafflement spreading over his features. _That's a good look for him_, she privately sniggered, right before—_ahh, Korra, shut up, shut up, shut up! _

"You're seriously telling me that you've never had this great American staple?"

"Um. No?"

"You're _not _telling me that you've never had this great American staple?"

"_No, _I have not had it; _yes_, I am telling you."

"That's it," he stood, quickly turning toward the stove. "You're eating a bowl, or I'm not driving you anywhere."

"I beg your pardon?" she blinked, still wondering how he'd moved so quickly and—_when did he get a ladle in his hand?_

"Take it," he thrust a bowl toward her, complete with metal tablespoon. "Take it or get out of my house."

"Fine. Jeez, _pushy_," she sniped, grabbing the bowl from his hands. "Ugh, it looks terrible. Like, really, really _cheap_ terrible."

"This is my childhood you're insulting, so proceed with caution."

"Yeah, cause I don't know what _that _feels like," she said pointedly, dipping her spoon into the bowl a little more harshly than necessary. He must not have had much to say to that because he was quiet as she took her first careful slurp from her spoon. _Blech_. It really was just tomato paste with cheap noodles. _This __is supposed to be popular? This is even weirder than peanut butter. _

"So?"

Korra swallowed, trying to hold back her grimace; for all her play, she really didn't want to be _completely_ rude. "I have a question."

"Shoot," he said simply, taking another bite of his own Spaghetti-Os, apparently satisfied with her verdict.

"Have you ever egged my uncle's car?"

And just like that, Tahno nearly choked on his little ugly noodles.

"Have I ever—_what?"_ he asked in between lung-tearing coughs.

"My uncle, Coach Tenzin of the Fire Foxes," she said casually, leaning her elbows farther onto the table. "Rumor has it that the Wolverines are known for occasionally showing a bit of poor sportsmanship."

"Is that the cause of the near-hernia, then?" he asked roughly, eyes watering as he took a stand and retrieved a glass from the cupboards. He looked over his shoulder at her as he filled it with water from the tap. "Because you're here?"

Korra's brows drew together. She didn't like that answer. "I haven't texted him back just yet," she replied slowly, suspiciously. "I just got his message a minute ago."

"Because you're waiting to see if I'm the egger?"

_No, _Korra thought, a tad defensively. "Well, are you?"

"Please," he scoffed, then spun himself to lean against the counter of the sink, staring her down, eyes hard. "Those pranks are beneath me."

"Says the one who climbs trees in his spare time."

His glared sharpened, but Korra merely leaned further back in her seat and kicked her feet up. "You wanna try picturing me sneaking through the nicest residential district this far of Northside with a dozen eggs in _my _hands?"

"You mean that's _not _how you get your hair to stay like that?"

"I am not amused, new girl."

"Seriously, Tahno," Korra sighed. He didn't budge. "Someone had to have done it. I mean, it's not even like it happened recently, right? Why is this such a hard question?"

"What makes you think it was my team? Your faithful captain clue you in?"

"I—what?"

"Oh, yeah," he laughed bitterly, grinding his teeth. "Big Brother Mako and I go way back."

"You—how do you—"

"Not important," he cut her off, crossing his arms, his half-full glass still in hand. "The point is I don't appreciate Fire Fox trash running their mouths about shit they know nothing about."

"But why would Mako say that if it weren't—"

"True? Oh, it's true, all right; I know it was them."

"What?" Korra exclaimed, leaning forward over the table to glare up at him. "But you just said—"

"It was nothing but a bunch of stupid, arrogant wannabe J.V. recruits who wanted to live up to their predecessors' glory," he shrugged. "They're animals, but they'll wizen up long before they ever make it to the next level, if they even make it that far. What do you expect me to do about it?"

Korra simply looked at him. Awe. Disbelief. Disappointment. "You're their captain."

"But not their mother," he said with finality, biting his cheek. "Can't take care of every stupid stray kid out there that doesn't know when to quit." His eyes dropped to the water in his glass and he stood there, chewing his tongue. Korra desperately wanted to say something, but hell if she knew where to begin. "You better text your uncle," he said suddenly.

"I'm going to," she replied immediately. The only problem was... was she going to need to ask for a ride?

There was silence then, uncomfortable and thick and full of space, and Korra felt a terrible sinking in her gut at the realization that this was a completely new sensation for them. As she swallowed, Korra distantly heard the churning of the pipes from some other nearby apartment, and all of a sudden, she wanted nothing more than to double-over and clutch her knees to her forehead. She didn't want to feel this way around Tahno.

_Crap_, she thought, staring into her cooling bowl of noodles. _I've screwed it all up. Again. Surprise._

"So... the coach is your uncle?"

"Yes," she said firmly, heavy with challenge and bite and _I dare you. _Korra slowly lifted her gaze. "Is there a problem with that?"

Tahno gave a single shrug a single shake of his head. "Just surprised is all," he paused, taking a sip of water. "I thought someone living with a personal trainer might actually be, you know... _good_."

They stared at one another, neither willing to break away.

But it was Korra who cracked first.

Fighting her smile—and losing terribly—Korra reached out her bowl. "Just shut up and give me more noodles."

* * *

**To: **Uncle T  
_Hey, sorry, I'm at a friend's! Just shove it in the microwave until I get back. And don't worry, I've got a ride! I'll be home soon._  
**Sent: **Thursday, Oct 18 6:39pm

* * *

"You're a terrible guest."

"You're a terrible host."

"I've provided you with food, shelter, and warm, dry clothes, so as far as I'm concerned, I am exceeding all expectations." "Except for your hospitality."

"My charm is an acquired taste."

"Like these noodles."

"Not to mention the non-stop arguing, accusing me of false crimes, and now insulting the host's food," he tutted. "My god, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you and your manners were raised in the wild."

"Clever," she said dully, flinging a noodle ring his way.

"Cute," he intoned, wiping it away from his cheek with a dry stare—_oh yeah, real mature_—but then he smirked down at her half-empty bowl. "But even still, nobody can resist Spaghetti-Os."

"Whatever," she laughed, taking another bite; yeah, they were growing on her, so sue her. "If anybody from my team saw me eating these, they'd kill me. Do you know that we're supposed to be following this really strict food plan this week in honor of Saturday's meet? Jeez. And I thought _you_ were insane." She remembered that very afternoon—an outstanding oration, a sparkling cheerleader, and group huddle gone mob. "This race is making everyone crazy."

Tahno laughed, but Korra couldn't quite find the humor. "Welcome to high school cross-country? And for the record: what you put into your body a few days before a meet is important, but it isn't nearly so important as what you put into it the rest of the year. I used to eat Spaghetti-Os all the time as a kid, and now I always have them a few days before a big race. It's just a thing."

"Like a good luck charm?"

"I don't need luck."

Korra bit down her smile. "So Spaghetti-Os are your guilty pleasure?" she asked, voice heavy with implication.

"Actually, I think they're turning out to be yours," he smirked, eyebrows waggling pointedly as she took another bite. She scowled, but still scooped up another.

"We're going to have to keep this a secret, you know."Tahno's expression slipped.

"What?"

"My Spaghetti-Os," she said simply, taking another mouthful. "Imagine the scandal they'd stir."

Slowly, another easy smile spread across Tahno's face. He shrugged. "Yeah, I'll keep your Spaghetti-Os scandal a secret... for a price, of course."

"I knew there was a limit to your charitable hosting. What do you want? Our team's top-secret work out routines? A better hairstyle?" Tahno actually outright laughed, and Korra's spoon halted halfway to its destination, distracted. Had he always laughed this much?

"_Please. _As if the Fire Freaks could have anything of value to offer me."

"Hey!"

"You know what? Never mind, you have nothing I want," he laughed, and Korra valiantly tried to ignore the way that settled so wrongly in her stomach. "I'll just keep you in my debt. I kind of prefer that, anyway."

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" she tried to throw back, but it sounded more bitter than she'd intended.

"Of course," Korra heard him say. She was too busy staring into the last few rings of her soup, however, so there was no way of knowing exactly how Tahno's eyes watched her, or how they trailed over her fingers, her arms, her jaw, her cheeks, her shoulders—_his shirt_.

"And, I mean... I usually have a way of getting what I want."

* * *

**From: **Uncle T  
_Don't say I didn't warn you._  
**Received: **Thursday, Oct 18 6:50pm

* * *

"Do you remember a few weeks ago when you asked me why I run cross-country?"

"Not particularly."

She sent him a look, but Tahno—at least _pretending_ to be the responsible driver—kept his eyes on the road. "Come on, man. It was right after I jumped out of the bush and scared the hair gel out of you. You asked me why I even bothered at all?"

"Nope. Doesn't ring a bell." She huffed, falling back against the seat. It was warm in the car, and it smelled nice, no matter how old he said the thing was, and Korra liked to watch the raindrops dance across the windows; but none of that really mattered at the moment.

Because he _had_ to be lying.

"Whatever, don't own up to it, fine. I just... I was just wondering why _you_ do."

"Do what?"

"Run cross-country."

"_Why _do I run cross-country?"

"Yeah," she tried to clarify, feeling more stupid with each passing moment. "I mean... I guess most people would chalk it up to the limelight and your ego, but—"

"My _what_?"

"But something tells me it's more than that."

"More personal, you mean?"

"Not exactly, but... well. Well, yeah. Maybe."

"Sorry, new girl, but you're barking up the wrong tree."

"So... you're _not_ all about using cross-country to get in with the crowd, then?" she teased. At first she thought he wasn't going to answer her.

"It's more about the opposite, actually," he said quietly. "More about... getting _out_." Korra let that sink in for a moment.

_Ugh, stupid girl, will you ever learn? _

Just when she was about to change the topic, just when she decided that she really needed to do a better job of _not _prying, he started again, dissatisfied.

"But it's... I don't know, it's more than that. I run because I want to see how far I can go, how fast, how much I can push myself. Yeah, I tend to enjoy the spotlight more than most, and I know how to use it better than even more than that, but I've also learned that if people are too busy watching one aspect of your life, it's easy for them to miss the rest. You know, _nobody really cares about you, star runner, _and all that jazz; they just want the numbers, the times, the records. And it's not just about running to beat other runners... Cross-country is about racing against yourself. Against everything holding you back. Shame, doubt, guilt; your real opponents are in your mind. I race to prove it to myself."

_To prove myself_, she heard.

"So it's all in your head then?" Korra asked lightly, teasingly, because she didn't know how else to respond. She felt like she'd just heard something incredibly private. "You know how that makes you sound, right?"

"No more crazy than what normally comes out of your mouth, savage girl," he spit back, but not with malice.

"As if," she laughed. "So that's it? You race for yourself because there's nobody else out on that course that's good enough for you?"

"Sounds about right, yeah."

"You're such a dick."

"Whoah, look at you now, fancy vocabulary. Which dirty mouth did you pick up that word from?"

"Hey, I had a TV _sometimes_. I grew up in the Andes, not in a nunnery, okay?"

"Good," he smirked, bearing left onto the highway exit that would lead her home. "It'd have been a shame."

"Like you would know anything about nuns," she muttered, shooting him a dirty look. But otherwise she bit her tongue, mostly because she didn't know what to say. Was she supposed to be flattered or annoyed? She sort of felt a little of both.

"Seriously, though," Tahno asked evenly, eyes concentrating on the asphalt ahead, but she could sense his curiosity. His disbelief. _Awe, maybe?_ Korra wasn't sure what it was that gave him away, but she could tell. "After all the places you've been... why come _here_?"

Korra knew full well the question he'd really meant to ask; she just didn't know if she could answer it.

"Well... my family is here," she began carefully, weighing her words. Korra saw the crease in his brow as she glanced to the side, proof that he knew she was holding back, just as well as she knew that he was trying not to. She just didn't know why.

_Silence often speaks volumes, Korra_, she'd heard her mother say time and time again. She'd thought she'd known what her mother had meant, even as socially stunted and as awkward as she'd been—_as she was_—but now Korra was really starting to wonder. For all the minutes that she and Tahno spent arguing, they often spent twice as much time in silence, didn't they? She was only just now beginning to notice.

"Makes sense, I guess," he said quietly, easing a right onto the back roads, while the ticking from the turn signal counted the empty, overflowing seconds for too long.

She already knew plenty more about him than he knew about her, Korra realized, thinking of his home and his goals and the dirty dishes sitting in his sink. But that's how she'd wanted it—and not just for him, but for everybody—for everyone in this small town, in that big school, in this tiny patch of world that these people called home, none of them were ever supposed to _know_. She was never supposed to have been here, not long enough for them to find out.

She wasn't supposed to _belong _here.

And what she wanted and what she thought she wanted was changing, which Korra hated, which scared her, but maybe... maybe—_it won't be so bad?_ Maybe she'd want _this_ to change, too? _I know it isn't fair, but... _

"I didn't want to come," she blurted suddenly, before she could think twice about it. "I never wanted to be here."

Tahno sighed. "Don't blame you," he replied quietly, shifting the gears. Korra could hear the soft hums and groans of the car's engine responding in kind. She waited, and it didn't take her long to realize that he was going to leave it at that. He wasn't going to pry; if she wanted him to see the missing pieces of the puzzle, then she was going to have to hand them over.

She almost preferred their usual games.

"I'd really like to do what they do," she sighed, letting the words flow out aimlessly. "You know, what I've always been doing, out in the open, tracking and sampling and studying wildlife... but they have the degrees to back all the scholarly articles up, and I don't. Not yet, anyway. So they shipped me off to my uncle's to prepare me for college."

"Couldn't they have just home-schooled you? I mean, if you're going into the same field, who better to teach you what you need to know than the experts?"

_Ah_, Korra thought blankly. _And that's the kicker, isn't it? _

"My parents thought it would be a good idea for me to try out a... _typical_ educational experience." Korra watched him bite his cheek and felt his broken laugh shake her all the way down to her core.

"A typical experience, huh?" he scoffed lightly under his breath. "Well, what you got here in this ho-dunk town is just about as typical as you can get, I guess," he conceded; his voice was nonchalant, but somehow this only made Korra feel worse. Was this conversation really doing either of them any good? _Probably not._

Then why couldn't she stop?

"It wasn't purely for academic reasons," she sighed again, sinking into the headrest. "In the end, I guess I kind of pushed them to do it. I... had a habit of butting heads with important people. With lots of people in general, too," she added as an afterthought. "But especially with those I shouldn't have been butting heads with in the first place. I don't know. I guess they thought I could use some... _practice._ In being a part of civilization, or something."

He nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "So now you're here."

But the way he said it... what did he _mean_? It was almost like—

Korra looked up.

Oh.

Well, she _was_, wasn't she?

"Should I be concerned that you're still so familiar with where my uncle lives?" she teased, half-smiling.

"As long as the eggs don't go on sale, I think you'll be fine." Korra laughed again, looking through rain-spattered windows up onto the gentle rise of a hill where Tenzin's house stood. It looked beautiful and pristine, even in the midst of all this gray. She wondered what Tahno thought of it all.

"Hey," she said softly, pausing until he turned to face her. "Thanks for the ride."

"Well, you know, chauffeuring is life's Plan B, so."

Korra rolled her eyes, but smiled. She absently wondered why she wasn't making any real moves to get out of the car. "I mean it though. And the run, too. I know it's not true to our typical weekend fashion, and that you're probably all geared for Saturday's meet, but... Yeah," she laughed, feeling even more foolish. "Thanks."

"Butter me up all you like, but you're going to need more than just a bit of gratitude to escape the debt you owe me for keeping your guilty pleasures a secret, you know." He smirked, leaving Korra wanting to punch his stupid face all over again.

"You're a real sleaze, you know that?"

"And yet, somehow you're still here."

Korra swallowed, looking down. She knew he'd only meant it the way he usually did—as a joke, an insult, whatever, it was all the same, it was _consistent—_but Korra still felt a little too uneasy for her own good. It was time to get out of there.

"I can fix that," she snarked, tearing open the handle with a devious smirk curling her lips. The plastic bag with her wet clothes rustled comfortingly in her other palm as she stepped out onto the road, minding the puddles with her already-soaked sneakers. "See you around, pretty boy."

"Wait," he called out, leaning across the passenger seat to hold her gaze through the open window. She'd been one breath away from jumping across the small ditch onto the gentle bank that would lead her up the front lawn, but the sound of his voice had sent a jolt straight through her. Careful not to fall backwards or trip or do anything embarrassingly clumsy, Korra slowly glanced back toward him.

"Yes?" she asked, smiling through her dramatic sigh.

"I can't meet you at the park after the meet on Saturday."

Korra blinked. _What?_

"What?"

"It's a—" Tahno grimaced, biting his cheek. "It's a stupid team tradition we have, after all our big home meets. Parties and newspaper reporters and... stuff, so I'm gonna be busy all day." He looked up at her, still leaning across the passenger seat; she was still standing in the rain. "I just wanted to let you know."

"Oh," she said, fighting to keep her face blank. _Oh_. "All right. That's... fine, I guess. Yeah. Yeah, okay, I'll just see you at the meet, then." _Ugh, stop rambling, just get out of here already before you make even more of a fool out of yourself._

"Wait!" he called out again, and this time, Korra almost didn't turn back around. Against her better judgment, she faced him.

"_Yes_?"

"I said I'll be busy all _day_," he smirked up at her. "My night is not yet spoken for."

Something warm bubbled inside her. Korra licked her lips to hide her smile. "I'll think about it," she hedged, letting her own smirk match his.

"Don't think too carefully," he warned. "There are very few options for how to spend a Saturday night in this town."

The way he'd said it—so playfully, so suggestively—it was Tahno to the T in every category: arrogance, lewdness, and just a touch of condescension. Only... if Korra didn't know any better, she would have sworn that there was actually a hint of _worry _in his eyes.

But that would have been ridiculous.

"For the record," she leaned closer to the open window, smiling back down at him in the passenger's seat. "This place hasn't been nearly as terrible as I thought it'd be."

And before he had a chance to delay her again, she hopped onto the bank and she climbed up the gentle slope of the front yard, not even chancing a parting smirk over her shoulder.

As he slowly pulled away, she didn't bother to hide her smile.

* * *

"I didn't realize you were fostering friendships with the Wolverines' captain."

This was what greeted her at the door.

Korra peeled off her wet sneakers and socks in the vestibule, immediately feeling the frosty bite of the autumn air against her raw skin. "I didn't exactly know either," she muttered airily, bending over to grab a piece of old newspaper from the stack by the door. She tore off a few strips and crunched them inside of her shoes. _No way they'll dry in time. Practice is going to suck tomorrow, no matter how short the pre-meet session is_. "It just sort of happened, okay?" she threw out defensively, peering up at him. "And what's the big deal, anyway? Don't tell me you're going to get all high school team-rivalry on me, too, just because you're the coach."

"It's not so much the rivalry that concerns me," he deeply intoned, standing over her as she fruitlessly stuffed her shoes. _What's that supposed to...? _But that's as far as it went. "Does your team know about this?"

"What do they have to do with anything?" Korra asked, adjusting her wet shirt as she stood. Tenzin glanced down, quirked a calculating eyebrow, and that's when she remembered that the shirt she was wearing wasn't exactly hers. _Oops._

"I'm just thinking of the conversation we had last week on the way to the restaurant," he eyed her with his _concerned-uncle-gaze_. "About trust. Have you even considered telling them?"

"You mean telling _Mako_?" Korra scoffed, ignoring the slimy trail of guilt slithering its way into her stomach. _Ugh, he's __right__. But gahh, I mean, what am I supposed to do? What's the big deal? They're only going to make into something it's not._

But then again, it's not like she even really knew what it was either.

"He's my team captain," she defended. "Not my mother."

Tenzin rose a brow, apparently surprised by her choice of words. _Yeah, well, honestly, so am I, man, so am I. _Korra blinked, trying to rid herself of the feeling that her voice had suddenly sounded an awful lot like Tahno's. _Or was that really mine?_

"He's your teammate and, more importantly, trying to be your friend," Tenzin reminded her—and just like that, all the guilt came clawing back toward her belly. "How much you choose to share with your team is always your choice, but there's only so much I can say about trust before you start having to learn the hard way."

They shared a look then, each of them already knowing the other's thoughts, already knowing that there wasn't much more to say. Korra looked up at her uncle, feeling all of the weight of the day and the strain seep into her tired, cold bones like the wet into old wooden grain, and nodded.

She swallowed hard, and opened her mouth to say something, but he was already ushering her toward the stairs.

"Come on, better get your shower in before Pema sees you and _actually _has a fit. Dinner's wrapped and waiting in the oven, whenever you're ready."

Korra trudged up the stairs, slowly, noting that she'd already begun to lose feeling in her legs.

* * *

**End Note: **Man, this one took a long time. We are steadily approaching Race Day (the chapter after next: **4.0**), and things are really starting to pick up. This took quite the effort to write, not only for the content, but also for going back through and reformatting all of the paragraphs that were totally lost in the uploading process to the FFNET document manager. D: (Curse you, FFNET... second time that has happened.)

Please do me a huge favor and leave some love! This took a lot of work, and there's plenty more to come.

And thank you so much to all of my regular reviewers. Your words mean so much more to me than you could ever know.


	8. three point nine

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.  
**Pairing(s): **Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra, one-sided Bolin/Korra  
**Genre:** Romance/Friendship/Drama  
**Word Count: **8,431 Rating: PG-13/T  
**Summary: **The life and love of running, autumn, and high school cross-country. — Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra. AU.  
**Author's Notes: **_1/23/13._For the record: I love Korra's awkwardness. I love Bolin's awkwardness. I love Mako's awkwardness. In fact, I think the only people in this story who _aren't_awkward are Tahno and Asami, which just makes everything all the more fun. I love torturing these characters with high school drama. You have been warned.

Also, **this chapter was getting too long,** so expect a **3.95** before **4.0** RACE DAY. And a line or two was taken from an original _Legend of Korra_ episode, _The Aftermath. _

**Musical Inspiration: **"I Don't Wanna Be in Love" by Good Charlotte. I used to love this song during the old days of cross-country. Besides, it only seemed appropriate. ;)

* * *

**3.9**

* * *

**From: **T (D:)  
_I wasn't kidding about catching a cold, you know. If tomorrow I end up contracting anything besides a scholarship, you'll be paying. Tenfold. In blood.  
_**Received: **Friday, Oct 19 7:02am

* * *

Korra laughed into her pillowcase, setting her phone back down on the nightstand with a heavy hand. She took a moment to breathe in the scent of cotton, feeling the weight of the morning lift from her limbs. Still cocooned beneath the down comforter, Korra's fingers gave an experimental twitch, and soon the rest of her body gradually began to wake. A messy ponytail flopped to the side as she slowly pushed herself upright; Korra had expected to feel the movement deep within the muscles of her arms, so she was pleasantly surprised to find that instead of soreness, she only found a warm, tingling awareness.

Shaking off the remaining lethargy of sleep, Korra went about preparing for the day. Her morning routine was fairly simple, but she found herself approaching the daily tasks with a new sense of energy. She watched herself in the mirror as she brushed her teeth, thinking about nothing in particular, but feeling strangely… good. Showered, dressed, and with school supplies packed, she brushed and pulled back her hair. Occasionally, Korra glanced at her phone. It wasn't until she was about to head downstairs that she texted back.

_Oh, no! _she typed sarcastically, only half paying attention to the familiar path down the stairs. _A deathly case of the sniffles. Do you think you'll survive? Should I call for an ambulance?_

A quarter of the way through her second bowl of cereal, she read: _Hey, you're at just as much risk as I am, Miss I Refuse to Listen to Good Advice. I've been living here all my life, so if either of us is better equipped to handle a little NE dampness, it'd be me. _And a moment later: _But my threat still stands, regardless. _

Korra nearly spit out her Cheerios. As she typed, chopped up banana pieces and flax seeds floated in the milk below, just as her eating plan recommended. _Don't worry, _she replied immediately, barely noticing as Meelo snuck a piece of her toast off her small plate; his munching sent crumbs flying everywhere, but she hardly cared._I think a few years of camping on snow-capped mountains might have prepped me for a little New England rain._ Still, when Pema handed her a couple of chewy gummy vitamins after breakfast—_See how they look like gummy bears, Korra? Aren't they cute, Korra? These are my most favorite-est vitamins, ever and ever and ever of all time! You see, they look like candy, but they're really not, which is why I like to bite their little heads off first_—she took them without protest. Whether her unnaturally strong immune system was due to genetics or decades of trampling through wild terrain, she couldn't be sure, but she wasn't going to test her luck. Besides, truth be told, the strange intensity that'd been floating around all these runners this past week was actually starting to get _her_ worked up about the meet. It's not like she'd say that out loud though.

As if on cue, Tahno sent another text her way as she was hurriedly chugging down her orange juice. _Don't say I didn't warn you. Still, if you have any hope of sucking less than usual at tomorrow's race, then you should probably make an effort to not be so careless today._

_You know, If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sounded concerned, _she teased, once she was warm in the car. Ikki and Meelo were fighting over something in the backseat, and Jinora was determinedly trying to ignore them, but Tenzin had had enough._Who knows, perhaps you're just projecting, _she texted again, not bothering to wait for a reply. _You're not afraid that a little cold might slow you down, are you?_ Despite Pema's harried concerns, all three kids and the teenager were dropped off at their respective locations with time to spare. Korra offered Tenzin a grateful parting nod as he left her at the corner of the main street, and she paused for a moment to watch him zoom down the busy lane off to work. She laughed aloud as he practically ran a red light.

It was going to be a good day, she decided. The race was tomorrow and she was feeling… _alert_. Ready. Not necessarily prepared, but… ready. It was beginning to occur to her that the morning on the morrow was going to be big, and that it could really mean big things for her team. And for the Wolverines' captain.

She was finally going to see what these Northside Brothers were all about—Bolin hadn't been able to stop talking about them all practice yesterday—plus, she was going to get another chance to make Varsity and, almost definitely, she was going to see Tahno again. Though neither of them had said anything further on whether or not she'd be taking him up on his Saturday night offer, she'd thought about it all night. She wasn't exactly a planner—more of a _go-with-the-flow_ kind of person—but the not knowing what he had in mind was eating away at her curiosity. What did people her age normally do on dates? She only had limited reference material to go off of, of course, and she didn't know how reliable she could consider made-for-television original Disney movies to be in teaching the ways of human interaction, especially when more often than not one of the protagonists ended up being a merman or a leprechaun or—

Wait a minute. Date?

_Hold up, Korra._

She didn't even know if she _liked _this kid, in _any_ sense of the word, and she was already jumping to conclusions about _dating _him? And okay, so maybe that wasn't entirely true, what she'd said about not knowing if she even liked him—after all, she'd finally called him her friend just yesterday, hadn't she?—but he was so not the kind of guy that she usually found herself, well... _liking_.

And it's not exactly like she'd had any sort of experience with either rejection or reciprocation to base her speculations off of, per se, but she knew the type of guy she usually fell for and _cocky, arrogant, sleazy slimeball_ just didn't seem to fit the bill. One-time inappropriate crush on her father's colleague aside—who could forget Hot Order of the White Lotus? Her mother certainly wouldn't ever let her live it down—_this_ definitely stretched the farthest limits. It's not like she really even expected to like Mako, but at least _he_ made more sense; strong leadership skills, a steady sense of responsibility, an appreciation for the outdoors, a commitment to physical fitness, an incredibly gorgeous face—_okay, that one's just a bonus, but hey, I'll take it_.

Though… she was supposed to be trying to ignore all that, wasn't she?

_Ugh. This would be so much easier if I could just hate Asami. Or Mako. Or just forget about both of them. Arggghhh._

The halls inside the school were especially hectic that morning, so Korra had to push and shove her way through the mounds of students on her way to her locker. There was some sort of buzz floating through the air, one that made the clusters especially chatty; everyone seemed to be especially determined not to go to class until the last possible minute. Maybe it had to do with the big meet tomorrow? _Nah, _Korra dismissed the idea. _Tahno said that high school runners don't usually get that kind of love. Maybe our football team is really good or something? _But even if they were good by American standards, she doubted they'd hold a candle to any of the twelve-year-olds she saw running around the fields of Argentina.

Korra did her best to remain patient for Tahno's text as she sat in her first period class, restlessly bouncing her foot against the steel leg of her desk, but the bell was going to ring at any moment. _Hell if he thinks I'm going to try reading his messages in class now, just because we had some weird bonding session or something yesterday. I'm not about to get __my__phone confiscated. Him and his stupid senioritis. _

It came just as the bell sang through the intercom, and though it wasn't exactly the most interesting text she'd ever received from him, it would at least hold her over for the eighty-minute block.

* * *

**From: **T (D:)  
_You wish, new girl. _  
**Received: **Friday, Oct 19 7:46am

* * *

"Um," Korra said, somewhere between third period and hell.

"Sorry, you probably don't even know what that is, do you?" Bolin laughed, and although she hadn't thought it possible, Korra's stomach dropped even farther as she caught the nervous timbre of his voice. _Oh god. Korra, stop this now, stop it before it can go any further—_

She couldn't.

"Well, you see, Homecoming is this thing that we have to celebrate the kick-off of the sports seasons, and—well, I mean, it's not just a thing, it's more of a week-long _thing_, really—but every school has one, including ours, although we're a little later than most, because I'm pretty sure Amon Prep had theirs the first week of October and even White Falls had theirs last Saturday, so—"

"Wait," she stiffened. "_What_?"

"Ah!" he exclaimed. "Sorry, I'm rambling now, aren't I? Yeah, _anyway_, at the end of it all, there's this dance after the football game, and—" "Bolin—" "I mean, I think we've really been having a lot of fun together—"

"_Bolin_—" "And I'd like to ask you to go," he finished, glancing up at Korra's stricken face. "Together. With me."

Korra swallowed. "As… friends?"

"Actually," Bolin fidgeted. "I was thinking more like, you know… as a date. With me."

Once, twice, Korra blinked, but nothing changed. Bolin was still standing there in front of her, looking hopeful and terrified and expecting an answer, and people were still moving all around her, making white noise and whooshing past in blurs of colors. Her hand felt clammy where it clung to the metal ridge of her locker door.

"Bolin," she managed, swallowing hard and then clearing her throat. "I'm… not sure… that's such a good idea."

He blinked, and suddenly Korra felt something inside her switch, as if the shock had just decided to melt away. She jerked slightly, coughing a little as everything came into sharper focus—the hunch to his shoulders, the shuffling of his feet, the slight nod of his downward tilted head… his avoidant gaze.

"Well," he laughed under his breath, then immediately bounced back up. His fake smile tore at her heart. "All right. I, uh… I guess I can't say I was one hundred percent confident that you'd say yes, but I gotta say I'm, uh… I'm still a little surprised by your answer." "I just don't think it's wise to date a teammate," she blurted out, panicking because she was a _coward, coward, coward! _

"Ah."

"You know?" she asked quickly, practically begging for him not to be upset with her. She didn't know what she would do with herself if she lost Bolin's friendship; she'd been so distracted by adjusting to her new life—_Mako—_and making Varsity—_Tahno_—over the last few weeks that she hadn't fully realized just how much she counted on him until now, not until losing him became a very real possibility. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_. "Especially with the big meet tomorrow and regional's coming up and everything. It—it could be a distraction, you know?"

Bolin nodded, but he wasn't looking at her again. "Yeah, I guess," he conceded dully. "But Mako and Asami seem to be doing just fine, so I mean… Personally, I don't really see the problem, but… yeah, I guess." And then: "Did somebody else already ask you?"

"What?" Korra's addled brain slurred out, mortified that a vision of Mako's face had automatically popped into her line of vision. For a split second, she wondered if that's whom Bolin had been thinking of too—_but that'd be ridiculous, completely ridiculous… gah! _"No," she said immediately, firmly, just as a picture of Tahno flashed before her eyes. "No, nobody else has asked me. And you know what," she shrugged, feeling herself roll over and down a proverbial cliff, _fast_. "I don't really think I'm gonna go at all."

Korra bit her lip, desperately reigning in all urges to blurt out anything else that would get her into even more trouble—_Hey, maybe next time!_ or _Don't worry, slugger, there's plenty of fish in the sea! _With great, great difficulty, Korra held those thoughts at bay.

"I'm sorry, Bolin," is all she could say instead. And really… she _was_.

He waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it," he smiled easily, so much so that she was sure he would have convinced nobody, but then he said, "Walk you to Biology?" and Korra almost relaxed.

But there was just a little too much pep in his step as they walked down the hall, and his jokes about Yakone secretly being a warlord in some underground high school sports gambling ring went on for just a little too long, and Korra knew just enough about people—Korra knew just enough about Bolin—to not misunderstand.

* * *

As she sat at the single desk in farthest back corner of the room, staring blankly at the notes on the board, listening to Yakone's deep, raspy voice—not even bothering to muster the energy to check her phone—Korra vaguely wondered at what point she'd become such a coward.

* * *

**To: **Mako  
_Meet me in the library during study hall. We have a problem.  
_ **Sent: **Friday, Oct 19 12:13pm

* * *

"How could this happen," his muffled voice dragged through his fingertips, sounding just as confused and frustrated and miserable as Korra felt. "How could he ask _you _to the dance?"

She ignored the sharp stab at her gut. "Gee, thanks," she mumbled, holding her crossed arms more tightly around her. _Great_, is all she thought. _This is just... great._

"Ugh, that's not—you know that's not what I mean," he tried to clarify, and under normal circumstances, maybe Korra would have found his contorted expression a little comical. Maybe. Instead, his light, chagrined blush only fueled _her_ embarrassment. When Korra didn't say anything in return, Mako ran an agitated hand through his hair—now wild and disheveled from all his frantic movements—and he let out a loud, gusty sigh. "God. This is going to go straight to his head, and then he's gonna lose it. Why didn't he just wait until _after _the meet?"

"Well, he didn't, and now we need you to get his head back on his shoulders," she said, terse and business-like. "I did what little damage control I could, but now it's up to you."

"Wait," Mako placed a hand on a shoulder to interrupt her escape. She turned, but she didn't relax. "Wait, we need to figure this out. What did you tell him, exactly?" Korra's expression fell open, agape with annoyance and disbelief.

"Are you kidding? You want me to relive the whole awkward conversation? Would you like a transcript?"

"I need to know what we're dealing with," Mako argued, keeping his voice low. "If there's something I can say that's gonna fix this before the meet tomorrow…"

Korra considered him, wondering if he was just being nosy; she got the feeling that he was interested in their painful dialogue for more than just his brother's sake, which meant that she was over-thinking things, and she didn't like it, but _what else do I got to lose? _

"I tried to give him an escape route," she nodded slowly, stifling a sigh. "You know... the 'just friends' card. He didn't take it. Then I… I told him that I didn't think it'd be a good idea, because we're teammates. I couldn't bring myself to tell him that I just don't feel the same way," she looked up at Mako, and against her will, her eyes pleaded for understanding. Maybe she'd be able to have at least _someone _recognize that she wasn't the cold-hearted coward she felt herself to be. "Not yet."

"That's probably… probably for the best," Mako nodded, speaking softly as he looked down into her torn face. Somehow, seeing the sympathy in his eyes only made her feel worse. She averted her eyes, missing Mako's deepening frown.

"He asked me if I was planning to go with anyone else… so I told him that I wasn't actually going to go. That I was just gonna skip it altogether."

Mako blinked in surprise. "Is that what you'd planned to do?"

Korra shrugged. Had she even thought about the dance recently? She hadn't really even considered it since… _Well_. "Not really," Korra confessed, eyeing one of the dusty bookshelves. She ran a finger along the gray, wiping a clean line from the worn woodwork. "I might have still gone, well, _before_... but I don't mind."

Mako didn't seem to believe her. "You can still go, you know," he said. "You don't have to give up on going to the dance just because you feel—obligated to, or something. Bolin will understand. You should… You should go."

And for a second, Korra wanted to believe him. But then reality set in and she thought, _who would I go with? My teammates? Where would I sit? Who would I dance with?_

She missed Bolin already.

"Yeah," she lied. "Maybe."

Mako was just as suspicious as ever, but their collective sigh seemed to deflate him. They stood in silence for a minute then, with him sagging against the heater under the shaded window and her leaning against the end of a tall bookshelf, with everything and nothing to say.

"You know," Mako laughed suddenly. "Of all the girls he could have fallen for, you are definitely the most inconvenient."

And that statement should have offended her, she _should_ have felt upset, but the _way_ he said it, the way he _looked_ at her—

Was she really over-thinking things?

_Or am I thinking just right?_

"I have no idea how I even got myself into this," she quietly confessed. "I _scare _guys away, okay? That's what I do. That's what I'm good at. They take one look at me and I challenge them at arm-wrestling and _bam_, that's it—I don't inadvertently invite them to ask me on dates to dances. I'm still not sure I even know what a date is," she muttered as an afterthought, and it sounded a little too self-depreciative for her liking, but she was too frustrated to care.

"Well, I can say that it's probably still a good thing you didn't try that here, though for different reasons," he smiled. "Now, we at least have a chance of getting Bolin's heart and head back in shape; if you'd tried out a little stunt like that and won, it'd have been all over for him."

Korra scoffed, feeling the bitter irony wash over her. "So you're saying he has an appreciation for strong women, is that it?"

Mako shrugged. "He has good taste."

She looked at him then, surprised, and Mako cleared his throat, uncomfortable. "Look, I've got to get to lunch, but I'll text you later and fill you in, okay?"

"Okay," she said softly, still a little winded. "Yeah. Thanks." He threw her one more parting smile—a small, apologetic thing—and rounded the corner, deftly disappearing from sight.

* * *

**To: **T (D:)  
_Hey, sorry. I got caught up in something and didn't see your texts. I'll talk to you after practice, okay?_  
**Sent: **Friday, Oct 19 1:49pm

* * *

Pre-meet practices were at least three times shorter than normal, but this one just didn't seem to want to end.

At first, it seemed like Bolin was going to feign casual and collected, but after one too many awkward silences, self-preservation won out, and Korra was left to run alone as Bolin jogged up ahead to chat with some of his other friends. Korra watched his back move along with the group and tried not to feel too bitter. Or lonely.

Korra had been avoiding Mako at practices all week, but after the weird connection with him during his pep talk yesterday, and especially after their little rendezvous in the library this afternoon, Korra was realizing just how futile it'd been; in 'avoiding' him, she'd only ended up paying him way more attention than before, thus noticing much more than she'd ever intended to. There _was _something up between him and Asami, but they were very good at hiding it in front of the team. She wondered if she'd ever be that good at not wearing her heart on her sleeve.

One of the other things she'd noticed was that Mako had gotten into the habit of taking Toza's car to school and using it to drive him and Bolin home after practice. A little indulgently, Korra wondered if that had more to do with the fact that he was anticipating an argument with Asami… or because he wanted another chance to drive her home.

Anyway, after the rousing speech that Mako had given yesterday, there was really no comparing the sudden stiffness of the team today. In a matter of a mere two miles—two _easy_, flat miles—it was as if the fun and games had been sucked right out of her teammates and replaced with a quiet, rippling intensity. Bolin was still rather lively by comparison, but even his strides seemed to hold a new, underlying sense of urgency. It all left Korra feeling antsy and on edge.

Which is probably why she nearly slapped herself in the face when Asami asked if she could drive her home.

"Thanks," Korra tried to be polite, when really all she wanted to do was run away. "But I already have a ride." "It would really mean a lot to me," Asami insisted. "I feel like we really haven't had much of a chance to talk, and I've felt so bad about that. Really, I've been meaning to ask you a lot sooner. Just let me buy you a cup of tea—please?"

A readily formed _thanks, but sorry, no thanks _was already on her tongue… until she noticed Tenzin stealthily slipping away into the front seat of his car. Her eyes narrowed as he sent her a hurried wave and a meaningful look as he slammed the door shut. _Subtle, _Korra thought dryly as he started the engine. _Real subtle._

"Korra?"

She blinked. "Uh. Yeah? That'd be… that'd be great. Thanks."

* * *

Like Mako, Asami had this thing about waiting until most of the team had already left, just in case. Ironically, Mako and Bolin ended up going home right after their short practice—_gee, I can only imagine why_—with Bolin now avoiding her completely and Mako attempting to shoot stealthy, furtive glances her way whenever Asami wasn't looking. Korra watched them pull away with something like lead in her stomach and with Asami's presence radiating warmth at her side.

_This is gonna suck._

* * *

It was a little coffee shop off Main Street with a relatively young crowd and plenty of open booths. The girl at the register had hot pink hair and thick, dark tattoos swirling over her collarbone, and in spite of herself, Korra was surprised to see Asami so familiar with her. The tea wasn't as great as Great Uncle Zuko's, but she should have known better than to compare; you just couldn't beat that kind of secret family recipe, even if Zuko never _was_ the one to brew it—only Great Aunt Katara had been patient enough to earn the privilege.

It was awkward at first, at least on Korra's part. Asami didn't seem to mind that Korra had the conversational capacity of a goldfish, but Korra felt it in every impatient tap of her toes against the floorboards. Still, Asami was persistent and smiley, and they talked cross-country and running for a while, and eventually a lot more about Korra's experiences in South America, which is how she found out that Asami was pretty outdoorsy. Interestingly enough, her dad was some automobile engineer who'd worked on everything from go-carts to developing some of the most important pieces incorporated into the original designs for the hybrid. And apparently, Asami had not one car, but _four_; without meaning to, Korra thought back to the comment Mako had made about her dad being overprotective and lonely. She wondered if all the flashy cars might not be a bit of an insurance policy of his own.

Although Korra was too tired to be paranoid about Asami possibly having any suspicions and honestly a little too cocky to feel much threatened, she was still pleasantly surprised; as it turned out, Asami had really only wanted to see how she was doing, and openly expressed how she wished that she could have checked in with her sooner. She was attentive and talkative, sweet and funny, and—worst, worst, _worst_ of all—Korra genuinely liked spending time with her.

Now. If only she could figure out a way to stop wanting her boyfriend.

* * *

"I gotta admit," Korra fiddled with the handle of her teacup. "I had you pegged wrong. I thought you were kind of..."

"Prissy?"

"Eh? _No_, well—actually yeah, you're right, I'm sorry, that's totally what I'd been thinking."

Asami smiled knowingly, and carefully set down her mug. "It's all right. People usually take one look at me and think '_oh, look, there goes another brainless pageant contestant_,' at least... until they see just what I can do with a javelin."

_Not gonna lie, this girl's intensity is a little freaky. _Especially with the way her eyes peered at Korra over the rim of her teacup.

"It sounds like our captain has a bit of a violent streak," Korra smirked, taking a swig from her cooling tea. She hated to admit it, but Asami was really starting to grow on her.

"I can handle myself," she quipped. "I may like to wear a tiara just as much as the next pageant girl, but don't get me wrong; I'm not as soft as people think."

Korra bit the inside of her cheek, debating. "I seem to have the opposite problem," Korra revealed, staring into her swirling tea. "Most people tend to forget that I'm not as hard as I look."

Asami smiled at her then, and for the first time, Korra felt like smiling back.

* * *

Whatever deep-dwelling insecurities Korra might have had about her captain only taking her out for tea due to 'new team member' protocol quickly diminished after the third round of Biscottis. She didn't think she'd ever laughed this hard in her life. Asami was so witty and clever and they kept each other's sides in stitches with Beifong impersonations and Yakone roasts—_really, this girl is brutal... respectful, but brutal_—and most importantly, she had flaws too, which Korra had finally begun to see. She finally felt like running might not be the only thing they had in common.

As the light began to fade from beyond the coffee shop windows, Korra desperately wanted to ask Asami for advice about Bolin, but decided that it was too soon. She'd only just really begun to know her—she didn't want to ruin the moment by unloading all of her boy trouble onto her. Besides, it was obvious that Asami was pretty familiar with everyone on their team, and especially close to Bolin... she didn't want to start building up new boundaries already, did she? She'd only just started to pick them apart.

But... the good thing, Korra realized, is that maybe one day soon, it would be possible.

"Hey," Asami laughed, waving over the barista. "We should do this again. I could get used to spending my Friday afternoons like this." Korra felt like a sap, but the girl's words sent warmth flooding through her.

Slightly embarrassed by the new attention, Korra distracted herself by picking up one of the stray Biscotti crumbs from her plate. "I think we should warn your friend to pre-order a mass shipment of these cookies before next time though," she told her seriously, before they both burst out into laughter.

"We must have eaten a box, _at least_," Asami smirked deviously as she whipped out her debit card. Korra tried to pull out some cash to offer up—_it really __was __a lot of Biscottis—_but Asami firmly shook her head. "Take next time, and we'll alternate." And, abruptly, Korra was hit with—

_Is this what's it like to have a girlfriend? Like the ones I used to watch in those teen movies?_

She crunched on a few crumbs to cover her goofy smile. "All right," she nodded. "I can work with that. As long as you promise not to tell anyone about how incredibly rebellious we're being with the recommended eating plan right now."

"Oh, shoot," Asami laughed, covering her eyes with her fingers. "I forgot all about that stupid thing. Honestly, I don't know what's gotten into him lately," she laughed, but it quickly morphed into a sigh. Suddenly, Korra didn't feel much like eating cookie-biscuits anymore.

"Hey," Korra quickly cut in with a smile, pointing her biscuit stick for emphasis. "If anyone's going to take the blame, it's gonna be me, the newbie."

"Not if he doesn't find out," Asami said slyly. "I won't tell Mako, if you don't."

_Okay, so that diversion didn't really work. _Korra, already wading in the waters of guilt and denial, was quickly falling over the edge into deceit and omission. _And just straight-up uncomfortable. _"No problem there," she muttered to the table.

"I'm sorry," Asami sighed. "I shouldn't be ragging on him like this, especially since you've only just met us. Geez, with the way I've been talking this afternoon, you must think I'm pretty awful, ha. What an impression, right?"

"Prissy No-Fail Goody-Two-Shoes becomes Sassy Tell-It-Like-It-Is Beauty Queen with a Thirst for Blood?" Korra held up her near empty cup in cheers. "I think we'll get along just fine."

"Man," Asami shook her head, munching on another stick as she smiled across the table. Korra was delighted to see that they also shared a terrible habit of talking with their mouths full. "I don't even know what the hell I was doing before I met you, Korra."

And yet somehow, her words only made Korra want to crawl under the table more than ever.

* * *

It wasn't until Asami was handing over the signed check to the barista that the rest of what Bolin had said that morning finally hit her.

* * *

"Hey, Asami," Korra ventured, leaning comfortably into the headrest of the passenger seat. She felt like the only place she ever spent time anymore was in the front seat of a car. Korra almost distracted herself with the implications of _front seat vs_. _back seat_, but Asami's quiet singing along to the radio kept her on track. "What can you tell me about the Homecoming dance?"

"Korra!" Asami gasped, lighting up immediately. _Crap_. "Did somebody ask you?" she asked suggestively. "Is he on the team?"

"I just want to know what it's like," Korra replied, sidestepping her question. "It's not exactly a custom I'm familiar with."

"A custom," Asami laughed quietly after a little pause, nodding as she took in Korra's words. "Wow. I haven't really ever thought about it that way. All right, then. What do you want to know?"

What _did _she want to know?

"Basically everything," Korra responded honestly. "I've only ever seen high school dances on T.V."

"_What_?" Asami exclaimed. "Oh, girl, are you in for a treat! The movies only ever make the dances about the couples, but that's so not true. Most of the fun happens _before _the dance, when you're getting ready with your girls."

"I don't really have any girls."

"Well, you've got one right here," Asami smirked, sending a glance to the side. "Seriously, the best part of the dance for me is a good excuse to wear a cute dress and a killer pair of heels and to spend the night dancing to songs by old boy bands I used to love with a rowdy group of girls who feel the same way. And then going out for pancakes."

Reluctantly, Korra had to admit that it sounded like a pretty good deal. "So it really doesn't have to be a couple thing?"

"Not unless you want it to be." "What about you?" Korra asked, feeling a little bolder than before. Maybe it was the caffeine. "Do you want it to be?"

Asami sighed. "I don't know," she answered honestly, and Korra's heart spiked all over the place. _Ahh, stop being nosy! This information does not concern you! Stop, stop, stop it! _"Mako and I haven't been dating for very long, and I'm still not sold on the whole 'dancing with one man the entire night' thing."

Korra swallowed hard as she considered this. There was a lot to that statement, but unfortunately, Asami's choice of words reminded Korra of her original reasoning for bringing Homecoming up in the first place.

"What are the dances at other schools like?" she asked, hoping that she sounded more like an innocent and curious foreigner rather than the sneaky, strategic two-timing team-backstabber that she was. "And do people from different schools attend other schools' dances ever?"

"Oh, they're pretty much all the same around here," Asami waved a dismissive hand. "Though it'll be interesting to see your take on it. To me it's always just been about a bunch of sweaty boys trying to grind on one too many girls and competing to see who can sandwich themselves into the the longest grinding train. I do my fair share, of course—of grinding, that is—but I also usually end up doing more glaring than enjoying the dance itself."

"Huh," Korra bit her cheek thoughtfully. "One day I'd like for you to go to Buenos Aires. You'd find more than enough willing male sacrifices to satisfy your violent streak in the _discotecas_ there."

Asami laughed, loud and bright. "God, _please _tell me that you're coming next weekend!"

"Hey, you didn't answer my other question," Korra reminded her, once again dancing around the issue. "Does that happen often, students going to other schools' homecoming stuff?"

"For some," Asami shrugged, nodding in thought. "Though it really depends. There aren't very many neighboring school districts around us, so it varies. Amon Preparatory School is too far north for us to ever really see any of them outside of sporting events. I guess I've met a few Capital City Wildcats though, now that I think about it."

"What about... White Falls?"

"_Ha!" _Asami practically barked, and Korra's stomach sank. "I _wish_! I have never heard of two schools more determined to despise one another. We're rivals on literally every front, you know that, right? Football, basketball, track, cross-country, _everything_. Two years ago, we were up against the Wolverines for our homecoming game and we had to station cops around the stadium to guard against vandalism."

"Are they really _that_ badly hated?"

"They have a terrible reputation for poor sportsmanship, but we're not really any better," Asami said softly. "We just get off easier for generally good behavior." Korra frowned.

"And what about... that Tahno guy?" she winced, certain that she was caught for sure.

"_Ah_," Asami breathed, and Korra grew worried at the tight, thoughtful pursing of her lips. "Tahno, Tahno, Tahno... What most of our team wouldn't _give _to sneak into the White Falls gymnasium for one dance with him."

"_What_?" Korra sat up immediately, nearly choking herself on the seatbelt. _Stupid safety features! _"With _that _guy? I thought you said we were rivals on every front!"

"Oh, we are," Asami said emphatically, smirking at Korra. "But that doesn't make him any less hot."

This conversation was quickly spiraling out of control and into _bizarre_. "I'm sorry?"

"Oh, come on, you must have noticed at least a _little_ during one of our meets? He's no gentleman, but that cocky smirk is enough to make any self-respecting girl weak in the knees. He's such an arrogant asshole, but he's _so good_ that you can't help but be impressed in spite of yourself. Have you ever seen him run? I'd kill for concentration like that. Seriously, I doubt there's anything that could make that guy lose his focus."

Asami checked her rearview mirror before switching lanes, but Korra still felt like she was lost in some weird haze. Was this real life? Had she somehow entered some alternate universe? _None of this is making any sense_.

"I don't get it," Korra said quickly, trying not to snap. "Most of the school hates him because he continually bests us at every race, or just because he's a Wolverine, and additionally, because he's a sleazy—a _sleazy_—"

"Manwhore," Asami readily supplied, and something cold crept into Korra's blood. "Like, genuinely, a bona fide manslut, and I'm not the kind of person to use that term lightly. I mean, sure, he's _incredibly _hot, but in reality, who knows how many of his little groupies have swarmed all over him? He's never been one to hide _any _of his personal records, that's for sure. Most of our girls have a thing for watching Tahno at races and spreading dirty fantasies in the locker rooms, but you can't trust a guy like that. He's nothing more than a guilty pleasure, you know? Like, our dirty little secret or something."

Korra's head fell forward into a nod, where she let it hang.

"Right."

* * *

**From: **T (D:)  
_So, did the dictators let you out yet? We've been done for like an hour._  
_**Received: **__Friday, Oct 19 5:14pm_

* * *

_**From: **__T (D:)_  
_Hey, you can run yourselves into the ground all you like, but no meet-prep practice is going to perform any miracles tomorrow._  
_**R****eceived: **__Friday, Oct 19 6:27pm_

* * *

_**To: **__T (D:)_  
_Hey. What gives?_  
_**Sent: **__Friday, Oct 19 6:43pm_

* * *

"Crap," Korra whispered to herself, and nearly tripped over a rock on the front lawn. As she stared down at the flickering little message on the screen—_Sent!_—she paused. She still felt awful about Bolin, but pretty good overall about Asami—despite some minor issues, you know, _like crushing on her boyfriend_—and pretty damn confused about Tahno, so Korra went ahead and broke Ikki's cardinal rule of texting—_Never, ever, ever do it when you're angry!_—and messaged him, anyway.

_Hey, _she'd typed into her phone, trying to stamp down the full-fledged irritation. _What gives? _Feeling a little surprised at herself as she stared down into the nearly complete loading bar, Korra muttered to no one in particular, "Yeah, _Korra..._ what gives?"

But the message was already sent and it was too late to rethink it now.

With a determined huff, Korra straightened her shoulders and stormed inside. According to the note attached to the inner door, Tenzin was out at the local sporting goods store, which was all the better because it meant that Korra wouldn't have to put up with any of his needling about how her girl-time bonding with Asami went. Pema and the kids were out at a movie, but according to the hour, they were due back soon. Quickly, Korra discarded her shoes and all but ran up the stairs to the sanctuary of her room, where she could hide before anyone came home and found her. She collapsed onto the bed immediately.

It was the little things like this that made her remember just how little they knew about each other. His outright refusal to own up to his teammates' shenanigans, his usual string of vague double-entendres and half-answers, these random, senseless omissions about things that _shouldn't _have been so important to begin with. What did she really know about him, other than the fact that he had a thing for eating the same canned goods before a meet? Aside from the gossipy rumors she'd overheard in the girls' locker rooms, and from what Asami had just revealed to her, Korra barely knew what he did inside or outside of school; she just knew that he ran—and that might be most of who he was, but that couldn't be all of it.

_And he likes to play games, apparently._

Unsurprisingly, it wasn't long before she received a reply.

* * *

**From: **T (D:)  
_You sound like you expect me to know what you're talking about. Is this some weird translation mistake or something?  
_**Received: **Friday, Oct 19 6:47pm

* * *

She gripped the cell phone in her hands and tried to focus on typing the right keys, one letter at a time.

_What's up with you failing to mention that White Falls hosted its homecoming dance last weekend? s_he asked, still holding out for her last hope against all hope that something was going to start making sense again, and—_wham!_ Just like that, the floodgates opened, and it was not long before she found herself in the midst of a full-out texting _discussion_, with her phone blowing up with messages left and right.

_I didn't think it was a point of interest, _he began.

_We were literally talking about it that same afternoon! You didn't think I'd be interested in knowing something like that?_

_Actually, no, since you had no idea what it even was until I told you. I'm not an events calendar, you know. What's got you so worked up?_

_Nothing, _she replied immediately. _I just don't get why you would deliberately leave out that information in a conversation entirely dedicated to educating me about the thing in the first place._

_If you'd take a minute to think about it, you'd also remember that I said, during that conversation specifically, that I'm not a homecoming kind of guy._

_But one of the girls on my team said that you were awarded Homecoming Prince._

_Homecoming KING, new girl. And yeah, what of it?_

_I just don't get why you're always so quick to brag about your latest race, but you didn't even so much as mention this homecoming thing. _

_Being voted the most typical high schooler is not exactly like winning a medal, you know._

_But you could have at least mentioned it! It's almost been a whole week._

_Again, I don't understand why this is such a thing for you. It's not like you were gonna be there, anyway._

She paused.

_Fine, _she typed, feeling her coldness seep into the word; anger was such a better alternative to dejection. _Sorry I asked._

She slammed her phone down onto the bed, but it merely slid off the side and onto the hardwood with a disheartening thud. Korra tried looking at the ceiling, but couldn't sit still, so picked her phone up off the floor and slammed it down onto the bureau with the vanity mirror, before storming into the adjacent bathroom. As she splashed cool water over her face, again she wondered, _What gives, Korra? _

She stood there for a long time, holding onto the fake marble countertop with fisted fingers, and stared into the empty branches outside her window; the colorful leaves were almost entirely gone, and most of the ones that remained were a dark, dry, crusty brown. _Well. _They didn't last very long, now did they?

By the time she came back out into her room, Aunt Pema was calling her down for dinner, and she had already received two more messages on her phone.

_All right, you gotta explain to me what's going on, because you're not making any sense._

_Wait a minute. Are you jealous?_

"_No_," she scoffed, shaking off an involuntary shudder that crept down her spine as she stared into the little screen. "I am _not_ jealous, thank you very much."

But she went down to dinner without her phone, and she didn't bother texting him back.

* * *

_Hey, _said the new message, when Korra returned to her room an hour later. _Are you busy?_

Korra stared down at the message, not entirely sure how to feel, but then took a second look at the sender—

—and nearly dropped her phone.

_We just finished dinner_, she responded. _Why? What's up?_

* * *

**From: **Mako  
_I know this is going to sound random, but would you mind coming out with me somewhere for a little while? It'll be easier to talk that way._  
**Received: **Friday, Oct 19 8:01pm

* * *

The darkness outside her window told her that it was late, and the time on the clock told her that it was getting _pretty _late for a pre-meet night, but she wanted to see him_so badly_—

_Yeah_, _sure_, she sent back immediately. She was in the middle of typing a second text, _Should I meet you somewhere or—_

When she received another: _Great, thanks. I've got the car, so I'll swing by your uncle's house. Could you be ready in ten?_

There was a nervous sort of feeling swimming through her stomach, and when Korra went to type, her fingers were shaking slightly. _I'm ready right now_, she said.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

_Okay, _she read. _I'll be right over._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

* * *

"Hey," Korra rushed past, slinging her coat over her shoulders as she flew down the stairs like a tornado. Tenzin had to blink twice, just to make sure it wasn't Meelo in disguise.

"You're heading out?" he asked, eyeing her hurried attempts to zip up.

"Mako just asked me to help him out with some stuff for tomorrow, but I'll be back before it gets too late." She was speaking rather quickly, but she seemed sane enough, so Tenzin's inquisitive brow was rather mild by his usual standards.

"The meet is in the early morning," he reminded her, partly as an observation, partly as a question.

"I know," she smiled sheepishly, and in spite of himself, Tenzin was momentarily caught by the light he saw in it; he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her express anything but frustration so genuinely. "But I won't stay out very late."

"Right," Tenzin intoned, still weighing his options. "Well, make sure you take your phone with you, just in case."

"I hardly need a reminder," she said, but she didn't seem very annoyed, even as she fidgeted with the fabric behind her neck. Her hood was stuck pretty severely in her ponytail, and when he fixed it for her—an unexpected, though not unwelcome gesture—she seemed disarranged, but happy.

The sounds of a car arriving rose to the landing of the vestibule where they stood, and Korra smiled up. "Thanks," she told him.

He merely nodded—as close to a smile as she was probably going to get—and she was out the door before they knew it. Her stomach was a nervous wreck of butterflies as she approached the passenger door, and even though she'd half-feared that maybe she'd find someone else inside—say, an unexpected guest, or _partner_—the driver was the only person who'd come. _God, I am going to hell, aren't I? Korra, you are so messed up. _No. _No. _Nothing was going to happen because she and Asami were friends now and Bolin was still hurting and—_have you already forgotten, stupid girl, that he's already turned you down once? _

"Hey, thanks," Mako smiled gratefully, looking a little ruffled as he reached over and pulled the handle of the door open for her. "I know this is kind of bad timing, what with the meet in the morning—"

"Don't worry about it," she assured him, sliding into the seat that already seemed so familiar. But then she took a good luck at him—disheveled, tight, and stiff—and her brow creased. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," he nodded quickly, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel while she got settled in. "Yeah, I just—I just needed to go for a drive and..." He halted, struggling to find the words.

"It'll be easier to talk about Bolin on a drive than over the phone?" she ventured. He looked over to her then, and Korra would like to think that the look they shared was one of understanding. _That is __not __disappointment in his eyes. It's not. _

_Is it?_

"Yeah," he agreed, and his smile sent warmth pulsing through her veins. "Right."

He reminded her to buckle up as he pulled out of her driveway, and he'd cranked up the heat before they'd even passed the willow tree, but she wasn't complaining.

* * *

As they drove along the highway, they talked about a lot of little things, but Korra couldn't help thinking about the things they _didn't _talk about; she didn't ask if Bolin knew where he was, or if Asami knew where he was, and he didn't ask if Tenzin had said anything about their little field trip, either.

As they were waiting for a red light to turn while driving down some little commercial road off an exit a few miles down, it occurred to Korra to check her phone. She had a single message waiting in her inbox.

* * *

**From: **T (D:)  
_This is too hard to type over text. Where are you now? Can you meet me at the park in a half hour?_  
**Received: **Friday, Oct 19 8:07pm

* * *

But it was already close to eight-thirty, and Mako was pulling into a parking space, and it was too late to rethink it now.

* * *

**End Note: **OH, SNAP. Things are really starting to get messy now, aren't they? And remember: this chapter was getting too long, so expect a **3.95** before **4.0 **- RACE DAY. Next up, you'll see how the night ends...

This was another really difficult chapter to upload due to FFNET complications. **Please spread the love with a review!** After all the time it takes to write this, proofread it, rewrite it, and proofread it again, having to go back through yet another time and re-separate all of the paragraphs back where they belong is such a pain. D:

Thanks!


	9. three point nine five

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.  
**Pairing(s): **Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra, one-sided Bolin/Korra  
**Genre:** Romance/Friendship/Drama  
**Word Count: **7,789_**  
**_**Rating:** PG-13/T  
**Summary: **The life and love of running, autumn, and high school cross-country. — Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra. AU.  
**Author's Notes: **_2/8/13. _For the record, although I love all of these characters—yes, even Mako—and have really felt attached to all of them in this universe up until this point, by the time I finished this chapter, I realized that I am actually getting legitimately pissed off at them. Except for Asami. (AND I'M WRITING THE FIC, SO WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN.) I may be typing out the words, but this nonsense sure as hell doesn't feel like _my _doing, anymore, you know? This story is writing itself. (I'm essentially getting kicked in the canon.)

On a brighter note—I hope everyone else affected by this blizzard is staying warm!

**Musical Inspiration: **Oh my god, so many. For Tahno in general, definitely "Lessons In Love (All Day, All Night)" by Neon Trees and also "Animal" by The Cab, the latter or which was inspired by the awesome Fanmix created by **poorlifedecisionsemily**. I also really, really liked the song rec by **thedaybeforelast** for "Who Are You, Really?" by Mikky Ekko. The lyrics, the feel, all of it. It just fit this chapter really, really well. And finally, "Howlin' For You" by the Black Keys for just... in general.

Thank goodness for **ebonyquill**, who literally **beta'd** this while camped out next to a Dasani water bottle vending machine in an airport baggage claim. On her iPhone. (I have texts with photos of handwritten beta notes to prove it.)

* * *

**3.95**

* * *

"My dad used to take me up here all the time," he said, staring out into the skyline through the car window. "Bolin was... still too little to come, so it was only ever just my dad and me."

"How's he doing?" Korra plunged, settling farther back into the seat. She was trying valiantly not to fidget, but it was impossible to sit still; maybe if she only moved a little bit at a time, she wouldn't feel so stiff. He'd reclined the seat back a long time ago, but he didn't seem to having a much easier time of relaxing into it than she did.

"He's... Bolin," Mako gnawed on the side of his cheek, absently playing with the fraying cover over the steering wheel. "He pretends like everything's okay when it's not, like everything is one big joke. He's never said it aloud, but I know better; Bolin thinks that if he can just distract the world by making it laugh, then nobody will notice when he hurts."

At this, Korra's stomach clenched. Did Bolin know where his brother was now? She couldn't imagine that Mako would have told him, but—

"I'm still worried about how he's gonna do at the meet tomorrow," Mako admitted with a sigh."I wish he would have just _waited _until the meet was over to ask, or listened to me in the first place when I told him that it's a bad idea to try dating a teammate."

Korra shifted in her seat, twisting until she was lying along her side, her neck propped up by her hand. She considered him curiously. Openly. "He talked to you about this?"

"Well," Mako sat up, floundering; she had the distinct feeling that if she'd been able to see a little more clearly, she'd see him blush. "I mean, he—he asked me what I thought about you, as—well, you know—and we're brothers, so—"

"What did you tell him?" she asked, her bluntness surprising even herself; she didn't know whether it had to do with Mako's own obvious nervousness or the comfortable heat settling over her skin, but Korra had never felt so calm.

"I..." Mako collapsed against his seat, letting his head sink all the way back into the fabric, and scowled. At first, Korra was worried that he might spend the rest of the conversation staring at the ceiling, but then he turned his gaze, and her stomach dropped all over again. "I told him the truth," he replied quietly.

In the weird part of her brain that registered irrelevant details, Korra took stock of where and who and what they were. It was pitch black now, incredibly dark outside save for the soft glow of a few scattered street lights and the distant specks of city living, mere dots nestled into the valley below, along the far side of a long, sloping hill. It wasn't that late, but for the people in this town, it was probably late enough that some were now settling in for bed, or already out for the night with their babysitters left behind, and then there was Korra, sitting here in a warm car with a boy that she liked on top of a look-out point, with a boy that _she was pretty sure liked her back_, and—

She wasn't an expert on these things, but she'd seen enough teen movies to know that there was a certain pattern that these kinds of situations entailed.

"Do you still like me?" Korra asked, gaze level, and for once in her life, Korra felt like her directness wasn't such a flaw. Hadn't she been thinking just a few weeks ago that she didn't understand why people couldn't just say what they meant? Or recognize what they wanted without making excuses? _What happened to that girl?_

And for the first time in many days—sitting there as she was, holding Mako's cornered gaze across the space of a broken armrest—Korra felt like she knew exactly where—_who_—she was.

Even when he turned away.

"Why do you do that?" he asked, and his voice almost sounded annoyed. Frustrated. Angry.

"Do what?" she asked, uncharacteristically level-headed.

"Ask such blunt questions," Mako banged his head back into the seat. "Like you expect me to know how to answer."

"Well, don't you?"

"I don't—I mean... it's not exactly a simple _yes _or _no_ question."

"Isn't it?"

Mako's brow furrowed more deeply, and even the distant city lights weren't dim enough to hide the blush washing over his cheeks. "What, are you just gonna sit there and keep asking me questions?" he demanded, scowling in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. Neither of them thought it worked.

"Are you going to give me a straight answer to any of them?" she challenged, and leaned forward just the tiniest fraction, edging over into the space that separated them. Mako noticed; she could see the workings of his throat from the corner of her eye as he swallowed.

"Why do I get the feeling you already have the answer you need?" he asked quietly.

"Well, that's the funny thing," Korra huffed a breath of laughter, gently lowering her head back down onto the seat. "Even when I think I do, I never actually seem to have any idea of what's really going on."

Mako watched her carefully, eyes softening as the creases along his forehead disappeared. "You're not the only one," he admitted in a low voice.

Korra bit her cheek, coming to a decision that had been forming in her mind ever since she got into the car. "You know why I like you?" she asked.

Mako looked like he'd been struck in the face, like all of the air had been knocked straight from his lungs. "What?"

"I like you," she repeated without hesitation, without fanfare or expectations or fear. "You've known that for a while. But do you know why?" Mako barely blinked, barely even moved, but Korra plowed on. "When I first came here, without knowing anyone or essentially any_thing_, I looked to anything that would give me some sort of guide for how to, you know... _be_. Interact. Of all the things I didn't understand, dealing with people was what I understood the least. I _still _don't understand," she laughed beneath her breath, but brushed away the self-pity. "I've always preferred working with animals over people. Or just being on my own. And I was perfectly content to be that way here, to just hold out until my parents gave in and shipped me back home and things went back to normal. But then I met you.

"I could tell how much the team respected you. Even with missing summer training and coming into the season so late, I could see immediately why people gravitated toward you. I got the impression that you didn't care for the attention all that much, but you took care of your teammates anyway, because you cared about them, because you felt responsible for them. And it's like you said earlier... Half the time I felt like maybe you didn't know what the hell you were doing, either... but your heart seemed to be in the right place. Like where I try to have mine.

"And I realized... I was lonely," Korra's voice grew soft. "I'd never really let myself think about it before. I'd always had my parents and my passions and—sometimes—it felt like I had the whole world literally at my feet... but I'd never had anyone my age. Not long enough to really get to know them, anyway... I'd never really known what it was like to admire someone like that. Until now."

"I... I don't..."

"You don't have to say anything to any of that," Korra smiled softly, wondering how it was possible for one part of her heart to keep beating, unfazed, while the other half lay breaking in her chest. "I just wanted you to know."

"No, but—" Mako cut off, face twisting with frustration as he grasped at the words. "You don't—you don't _understand_. God," he muttered under his breath, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. "And I don't know how to make you."

Korra's brow creased, and a swirling feeling of _sick _began swimming in her gut. Looks like it ended up being her whole heart, anyway. "You're a little late," she told him, with a tired, tired voice. "That's kind of the point I was trying to make."

"What? No! _No_," he insisted, rounding on her, severity in his eyes. "This is what I was talking about! God," Mako breathed, falling back into the seat again. "I mean... don't you _get it_?"

"Get _what?_" she sighed, already done with this conversation.

"I _like _you, okay?" he exclaimed impatiently, almost bitterly, as Korra turned her surprised gaze on him. "There. I said it. I like you. I like you _a lot_—I like you _too much_—and I have a girlfriend, who I also care about, and I've been trying to deal with that for _weeks, _and sucking at it, but... I've liked you ever since... ever since the day I met you. Your first day of practice."

It took her a moment to find her voice. "But... I accidentally punched you that day," Korra whispered. "In the face."

Mako's laugh was full of awkwardness, like he couldn't fully believe it either; she couldn't remember ever seeing this kid blush this much in her entire life, but she was still too floored to think much anything else. "Remember what I said yesterday about the arm wrestling thing?"

Korra blinked. _"Oh,"_ she said quietly.

Mako scoffed sheepishly. "Yeah," he sighed, no longer even trying to hide his blush. "I had the bruise for days... Bolin and I have similar tastes... I guess...

"But the point is that... I didn't even know you then, and—well, before I even met you, before you even came, I was already annoyed that you were _there_. Things were just starting to turn around—this was gonna be the year that we finally make it all the way—and then I got the news that I was gonna have to—that I was gonna have to _babysit_ some newbie transfer kid who'd never cared much for running in the first place. I tried to ignore the fact that you were coming as much as possible, but still couldn't help wondering how you were going to affect the team, and then when you finally _did_ show up... It was barely ten minutes into practice and Bolin was already out of his mind, and the team was all out of focus, and _you—_you were just such a mess, this happy train wreck that loved wreaking havoc and who captured everyone's attention wherever you went, whether you realized or not, and I—I just—_you_ just—left this _impression_ on me, you know? Everything about you was just so... _different?_ And I just—I just couldn't stop thinking about you, either, and then I had to try to treat you just like everyone else at practices and pretend that everything was just the same as before you came and I'm just..." Mako sighed. "I'm an idiot."

Korra looked over, letting the sounds of her quiet breaths wash over her, like waves upon a shore. This was a nice change, she observed in a strangely detached sort of way, that she was watching Mako be the one fumbling for once. "This is true," she said softly, a teasing light in her eyes. Her smile made her look a lot younger than she really was.

"What I was _trying _to say is... The point is.. A few weeks ago, we didn't even know each other," he turned to her. "And now... I can't imagine my life without you in it."

But for all her supposed calm, the air stilled in Korra's lungs; there was such _heat_ in his eyes, such burning, it was almost like some sort of fire existed _inside _of him. He seemed to radiate it from his very core.

"Do you know what I mean?" he asked her, and his frown deepened as her silence stretched on. Korra's eyes traced the lines of his face, taking in the angles and shadows and uncertainty and suddenly, in the light of the orange streetlamps—

She was able to see it all a little differently.

"Here's what I know," Korra said faintly, looking him very seriously in the eye as they stared at one another from across the reclining seats. She swallowed, refusing to acknowledge the lump that was beginning to form. "I know that I like you, probably a lot more than I should. I know now that you don't feel so differently. I also know that you're with Asami," she told him directly, feeling her throat grow tight. "And I know that it's not exactly perfect between you two," her voice dropped to a whisper, just in case it cracked. _It won't_, she thought, _but just in case. _"But she cares about you and you care about her. And I care about her, too...

"So that's all I really need."

_And that_, her mind whispered, as she tried to swallow her heart,_is disappointment in his eyes_.

Out of nowhere, anger surged up within her, irrational and hot and searing behind her eyes. She turned away, so as not to let him see, but the damage was already done. As a hundred and one emotions churned through her gut, Korra resisted the urge to be sick. Resentment. Bitterness. Frustration. _Jealousy_. She finally let herself name a few. Korra was not used to waiting, not used to not reaching her goals—and it wasn't about not getting what she wanted, because that wasn't the same, that was _different_—

"I could see myself with you, you know," Mako whispered, staring out the window, and Korra found her gaze drawn to the overlook of the town as well. _I can, too_, she thought to herself. _All too easily._

"I don't think I can keep seeing you like this," Korra quietly declared. She could feel the words slide out into the air, deepening the distance between them. "You and Asami deserve the time to figure things out."

Mako frowned, but after a moment of contemplation, he offered her a single nod. "So, we're just... friends?"

Korra bit her lip, and tried not to make herself bleed.

"From now on, we're just... teammates."

* * *

She'd be lying if she said the ride home wasn't an awkward one.

But—_somehow_—they managed.

Most of the drive down the highway was spent in reflective silence, with some _Today's Hits! _radio station turned down low in the background. Korra still didn't recognize any of the songs.

She hated the quiet.

"I have a question about the race tomorrow," she tried.

Mako glanced to her at the side, startled by the interruption of a sentence that he no doubt fully believed was already being carried out. He looked wary, like he didn't know how lightly to tread, or where he quite stood. _Neither of us really know anymore, do we? _Mako cleared his throat. "Shoot."

"Just what is it about the Northside Brothers that's making everyone so on edge?" she asked.

His eyebrows raised. "The Amon Prep kids? I guess... I guess it's more that we really don't know a whole lot about them. They're very dedicated—some would say a little _too_ dedicated—but whether their talent is natural or trained, it doesn't really matter. The older brother's supposed to be the one to watch out for, though... Aside from the Wolverines, they're the only other team standing in our way of the Championships." His eyes narrowed. "And who knows? I hear this Noatok kid might actually give Tahno a run for his money."

With a sickening lurch, Korra's stomach flipped; her cell phone burned in her pocket.

"Well," she began. "And what about Tahno?" _Voice, please don't betray me_, she begged. "What's everyone's deal with him?"

"Is that a real question?" Mako scoffed. "Have you _met _the guy?"

Korra frowned.

"I've run into him once or twice." _Or maybe four times, but who's counting? _"I didn't think he was gonna be winning any Samaritan's Awards anytime soon, but he didn't seem as bad as everyone keeps making him out to be."

"Doesn't seem as—doesn't seem as _bad_?" Mako practically sputtered. "Relative to what? A trucker with no teeth?"

"_What?_"

"Never mind," Mako grunted. "The point is that he's one the sorriest, most selfish excuses for a human being I've ever met, and a total jerk. Wait a minute," he halts, as his voice takes on a wobbly edge. "Please don't tell me you've been listening to the _girls' locker room stories_."

"What? _No_! Wait—how do you know about those?"

"You think I don't know what goes on with my own teammates? And please, their giggling is so loud as they come out into the wrestling room sometimes that it's almost enough to make me gag."

Korra eyed his tightened knuckles over the steering wheel and, in spite of everything, felt amused. "Mako... Are you _jealous_ of this guy?"

"I'm gonna pretend like you didn't just say that," Mako spit dryly, roughly shifting gears as they prepared to diverge onto an exit up ahead. "That kid gets the ground he walks on painted in gold, and he doesn't deserve any of it."

"That's a pretty bold judgement."

He huffed. "Okay, so yeah, maybe I am a little jealous of all the recognition, so what? Our team has just as much potential as the Wolverines, and it's not right that White Falls gets all the spotlight. Our runners are just as dedicated and are entitled to just as much scholarship attention as they are."

_Ah, _thought Korra, as the puzzle pieces began to click into place.

"And he's _obsessed_ with running," Mako continued, slowing the car to a standstill as they reached a red light at the bottom of the exit ramp. "That's all he ever does. He trains and runs and makes showy appearances on the local morning news, and that's it. I mean, if we all slept, ate, and breathed cross-country, I'm sure we'd be making better records, too."

"Yeah, right, 'cuz all that running doesn't sound like anyone _else_ I know."

"Running isn't _everything_ for some of us, you know," Mako scowled quietly. "Some of us have to focus on schoolwork, or focus on taking care of family. Or work double-shifts twice a week."

Awkwardness returned. "Sorry," she muttered. "I didn't mean to..." _I don't even know exactly what it is that I did! Why am I apologizing? I still don't understand anything. _

"No," Mako sighed. "Don't be... It's just... It's just a touchy subject, okay? I don't often talk about him; I didn't meant to take it out on you."

Korra's frown deepened. "You really hate him, don't you?"

"Hey," he defended, quickly glancing at her to the side. He apparently didn't like the accusation in her voice. "_I'm_ not the bad guy here."

"Why does there have to _be _a 'bad guy' at all?" she challenged.

"And I don't..." Mako paused, taking a deep breath. "I don't _hate _him, okay? It's just..."

"You've never gotten along," Korra sighed, propping her chin on her hand against the window as she rolled her eyes. _Yeah. Got it. Tell me something I __don't __know._

A pause. "We could have," he admitted quietly.

Korra looked up. Mako's eyes remained glued to the road, but she got the feeling that it had little to do with safe driving. He glanced at her, briefly.

"You're not the only who's been trying to hide their home life."

Her brows drew together. "What... do you mean?"

"Tahno and I have known each other since we were kids," he explained, releasing a heavy, heavy sigh. "Foster parents tend to gather in the same circles, so we ran into each other a lot."

Korra's hand slipped from her chin. She tried digesting this, but Mako didn't let up.

"And you know? Maybe we _could _have been friends... But I've never liked the way Tahno does things, always thinking about only himself—and besides, I had Bolin to look out for. Bolin and I had each other, so we kept to ourselves and he kept to his own, and one thing led to another, and now we completely resent one another. It's been that way ever since we were kids."

"But you had Bolin to think about. It sounds like he didn't have anybody."

"He had us, if he wanted us," he said stiffly, and something about the _way_ he said it tugged at her heartstrings. "But he didn't want help from anyone, and he certainly didn't want anything to do with us. He doesn't care about anyone but himself. And he admits that. Fine."

"Isn't that a little harsh?"

"When you live the way we were living, you learn not to bite the hand that feeds you," Mako said quietly, voice tight with memory. "And you learn to not be afraid of asking for something you want... he never quite got around to realizing any of that."

Without meaning to, Korra's mind drifted toward a more personal side of things, thinking of her own privileges. Hopping from living in one developing country to the next had not left her bind; she'd seen poverty in some of its truest, ugliest forms—but she'd had the promise of _escape, _always_. _The light at the end of her ventures through a dark tunnel, _so-to-speak_, was never a question. Her parents had a strong partnership with the well-established White Lotus, and had co-founded the Avatar Research Foundation—to which, of course, she was the sole heiress—which also meant that among many other luxuries—security, stability, support—she had some pretty hefty inheritance waiting for her. Their lifestyle was a frugal, meager one, but it was a matter of _choice._

And then there were the _other_ things she'd been realizing more and more lately just how much she'd taken for granted, like having an extended—extended, _extended_—family, or visiting relatives in all sorts of places with all sorts of personalities and experiences and wisdom... or even having both of her parents. _God, _Korra shook her head, fighting the grimace from her face. _Just getting loaded with all sorts of guilt today, huh, Korra._

But Mako wasn't finished.

"When Tahno wants something, he makes _sure_ he gets it, and he'll take down whatever—or whoever—gets in his way. He just _takes._ The guy has no qualms about rule-breaking, that's for damn sure."

Her expression grew tighter as the twisting inside her grew harder to ignore. _He's obviously still bitter—hurt—from Tahno's dismissal, it sounds like... _But too much of what Mako was saying was ringing true. _I mean... _What had it been that Tahno had said just yesterday over their shared pot of Spaghetti-Os?

'_Big Brother Mako and I go way back—What do you expect me to do about it?—Can't take care of every stupid stray kid out there that doesn't know when to quit. You know what? Never mind, you have nothing I want—I'll just keep you in my debt. I kind of prefer that, anyway._

_'I usually have a way of getting what I want.'_

Korra's eyes squeezed shut, but the darkness did nothing to hide the sound of his voice echoing in her ears. Her stomach suddenly felt queasy.

_My god, _Korra's heart thumped inside her chest. _What if everything that Asami and Mako have been saying __is __true? I mean, it's not like I expected them to be lying or anything—maybe just without the whole picture, or his side of the story, but... What if... Have I just been getting played this whole time? No. No. I may not be an expert, but—_

"You don't know what he's like during a race," Mako raged on, completely oblivious to the girl quickly falling apart in the passenger seat. "You think you've seen nasty? You haven't seen him on the course; you might think Bolin exaggerates that kind of stuff to turn it into another joke, but it's because he's downright afraid of the guy. He's the cockiest little shit out there, and _nobody's_ favorite competitor. And it's impossible to monitor every part of a race—it's cross-country. There's always going to be at least one spot where nobody's watching."

Korra sat in silence, trying not to think about much of anything.

"I don't respect him," he said, flat and final. "And I think it's rather difficult to, for anyone whose got some for themselves."

Korra sighed into the wave of oncoming heat blowing from the dashboard, thought about the silenced phone sitting neglected in her pocket, and tried not to throw up.

* * *

The car was finally silent, save for the endless stream of radio.

After their conversation had eventually trailed off—with Korra simply unable and unwilling to contribute further—the awkwardness eventually all but subsided; the queasiness, however, did not. She knew what jealousy felt like; she'd felt it just a few minutes ago, in this very car. This didn't feel like jealousy.

This felt like betrayal.

She wasn't even convinced that Asami and Mako really even liked each other all that much—_Who really knew? Maybe they'd just gotten together because it seemed like the thing to do at the time, or because, for all intents and purposes, they seemed to fit the roles in each other's otherwise perfect track records_—but if this feeling was _anything_ close to what Asami might feel if she were to ever find out about her _not-so-hidden-anymore_ feelings for Mako, then Korra didn't want anything to do with him, not like this.

_Is this what it feels like? To be a normal teenager with complicated friendships and petty relationship issues and no perspective, whatsoever? _If this was what it meant to be a typical high schooler in this day and age, then she didn't want any part of it. She wanted to go home. She wanted Naga and ice caps and beautiful sunrises over glaciers and her father's laughter and _Naga_. She wanted someone to talk to, someone she didn't have to worry about judging her, who would love her no matter how many stupid mistakes she made, who wouldn't—_is this what Bolin feels like? Right now?_

—and just when she thought it couldn't get any worse.

"Hey," Mako's concerned voice drifted from the other side of the car. "Are you all right?"

She hesitated, then shook her head. "I think it's all starting to get to me," she said quietly.

"The... race, you mean?"

She knew that it wasn't what he'd been about to say. She didn't bother to correct him. "Yeah. Maybe."

"It'll be easier in the morning," he told her evenly, his reversion back to captain bringing a level of certainty and confidence—_and consolation_—to his voice. "Trust me—we all deal with the mornings before a meet a little differently, and knowing you, you're the kind who's probably gonna wake up feeling like a completely new person... You're gonna dominate tomorrow," he told her simply, with such plain conviction that she had to look up at him, her uneasiness momentarily forgotten.

"How are _you_ feeling about the race?" she asked him. Mako shrugged, as a little of the embarrassed, awkward smile that she'd grown to know so well spilled over his face. He blew out the air from his cheeks. "Hell if I know anymore," he laughed disparagingly. "As a _team_, we'll make it through to Regionals; I'm sure of it. But as for me, personally? I... I put on a front for the others, and try to keep up morale, but I never _really_ know how I'm gonna do in a race. I'm not a natural runner, you know? I have to work at it. Sometimes I feel like my body was made for something else, like I'd be better at something that requires a little less _flow,_ and a little more stop-and-go, like—like _boxing_, or something. I don't know," and there's that laugh again. "I don't know what I'm talking about. At least I have the self-control mostly down... I mean, I know I'll do _well_, and I'm good at pumping myself up once I get into it all, but... You know, it's kind of funny," he said abruptly, pulling onto the side street that would lead her home. "How so many people think endurance running is mostly about the training and the stamina and technique... Track and Field has a lot of that too, of course... but endurance running... most of it's in your head."

Korra bit her lip thoughtfully. "Maybe that's why _I've_ had such trouble so far," she mused.

"I think we need to reexamine your definition of the word _trouble_."

"No, really," she insisted, feeling the cogs turning in her head. "I mean, I must have heard all this a thousand times before, but I guess I'd never put two-and-two together until now... Look at this way: for me, the actual _running _part is a breeze."

"Humble, as always."

"Hear me out! I've always been pretty lucky with the physical side of things. I'm unusually strong for a girl my age, and my stamina isn't too shabby, and this kind of movement just comes very naturally to me... but I'm starting to realize that that's not all there is. I mean. You should hear the way Tenzin talks about running sometimes; it's such a spiritual outlet for him. And he's already new age-y enough as it is, what with all the yoga and the meditation, but running is like—the _ultimate_ way for him to connect his mind, body, and spirit, and... Wow," Korra paused, face scrunching with surprise.

"I can't believe you remember all that."

"I can't believe I was actually _listening_ when he told me all that," and then she laughed. "But it makes _sense_ now, doesn't it? I'd always just kind of cut to the part about becoming faster or stronger, or whatever, but... maybe I've been going about it all wrong," and she was on a roll now. "I mean, sometimes I think I feel the way you do, about being made for something else—something a little different—but I also feel like this _fits,_ too... Like I'm made for a whole bunch of things, and I've found this new thing that I'm meant to do, but my brain just hasn't switched over yet... Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

"Um. Maybe?"

But Korra wasn't deterred; she laughed. "Let me ask you something. Why do you run cross-country?"

"_Why _do I run cross-country?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I... I don't know. I never really thought about it before."

"Well, why don't you try thinking about it now?"

Mako sent her a sidelong glance. "You're being awfully pushy," he observed. Korra merely flashed a cheeky grin; she was already in a substantially better mood.

"Just try."

"All right," he sighed. "Well, scholarships for starters; I always knew I was going to play sports all year round, and I'll take up just about anything that will earn me a bit of cash for college. And Bolin was really into the idea of it, so really, I just followed him... It's not like I really had my heart set on anything else. He was kind of surprised when I continued on into indoor track because he does wrestling during the winter season—you should _totally _see his matches sometime, by the way, the guy is a force to be reckoned with—and I guess I kind of convinced myself that it was just to stay in shape, but..." His lips tightened into a thin line, eyes narrowing in thought. "I guess I got too attached to the team, you know? The family. I know that's why Bolin runs."

Korra allowed herself a small smile. "I could see that," she breathed. She felt a little better now. Warm, even.

"Man," Mako grumbled, albeit good-naturedly. "This conversation is way too philosophical for a pre-meet night."

It was then that Korra realized that the car was no longer moving; instead, the car was parked under the long, sweeping branches of the willow tree, gear set to neutral. "Whoah," Korra blinked. "I was talking so much, I didn't even realize... How long have we been sitting here?"

"Not long. Probably somewhere around _'new age-y_'."

"Oh, god," Korra slapped her forehead, and was promptly reintroduced to that familiar feeling of idiocy. "Do I ever shut up? And _you,_" she turned on him. "This is without a doubt _the_ most I've ever heard you talk at once. Like. Ever."

Mako chuckled beneath his breath, and shrugged under her warm stare. "Yeah, I don't know," he scratched his head. He licked his dry lips. "Guess we ended up getting around to those personal histories, after all."

And there went Korra's heart. She swallowed hard, then coughed. "About that... Mako, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry. Again." But as she bit her lip, she had to wonder... just how many of their _'teammates'_ actually knew what Mako had shared with her?

How much did _Asami_ know?

Mako looked at her, then. _Really _looked at her, and the feeling inside her—wobbly and shaky and warm—grew tenfold. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek and—once he'd averted his gaze—he mumbled, "I don't mind."

_Mako_. Korra swallowed. "Mako—"

"Look," he interrupted, holding up a hand to stop her. "I get what you said okay? And you're right. Asami and I need to figure things out. I just... How is this supposed to work? Am I really not allowed to see you anymore after this, other than at practices?"

"I don't—"

"Because I don't think I can do that," he said firmly, looking back at her, effectively stealing the very air right from Korra's lungs. "I don't want to just be teammates," he confessed, desperately holding onto her gaze.

"Mako, look," she tried again, but could feel herself weakening—_lips burning_—feel herself falling—_I could see immediately why people gravitated toward you_—

Until a message sends the cell phone on the dashboard into a vibrating fit—

—and shatters them apart.

For one hot second of blind panic, as Korra jolted back against the car door, all but pressing herself to the wall, she thought—she was _sure—_that the cell phone was hers. But she silenced that thing hours ago.

Which meant—

"Hello?" Mako asked in a deceptively calm voice; she could still see his heaving chest from the other side of the car. His eyes swiveled back and forth as he listened to the voice on the other end of the receiver, and the crease between his brows only deepened. "Uh—yeah, sure." He quietly cleared his throat. "Yeah, no problem."

Korra's heart was still pounding, but at least she could herself breathing over the sound of it again. She watched him with wary, wary eyes. He hung up.

"Who was it?" she asked faintly, sticking to the wall. Mako licked his lips, brow tightening. When he looked up, Korra felt her stomach sink. "It was Bolin. He asked if I could pick something up... on the way home." He looked at her straight in the eyes, and swallowed. "He knows."

Korra blinked. "What?" she hissed, speaking quickly as she still tried to catch her breath. "What does he know? How can he know?"

"We're brothers," Mako stated, which made no sense to Korra, but seemed to be the explanation for everything to him. "Trust me, he just... knows."

"Well, this... complicates things." She sagged against the door, feeling worse than ever.

"As if they weren't complicated enough as it was already," he replied faintly, turning over the cell phone in his hand.

Korra stared at the offensive piece of technology, willing herself not to think about what laid waiting for her inside of her own, willing herself not to think—_shit, we almost kissed, didn't we? If it weren't for Bolin's call, we would've—we were __so__ close to—_

"So much for the plan to focus on the race," she threw out in an uneasy breath. This wasn't even awkward anymore. They were beyond awkward. She just felt shaky and antsy and wired. "And rest," she added as a useless afterthought.

But Mako only laughed, bitter and jaded and—_that's right_—disappointed.

"I don't think it's ever been about a plan with you."

Only, those words, they were a little too familiar—

—and then something reached down, grasped Korra's heart, and _squeezed._

* * *

When Korra flipped open her phone not ten minutes later, with fumbling fingers and tight lips and narrowed eyes in the warmth of her bedroom, she couldn't find a single new message to read.

* * *

**To:** T (D:)  
_Hey, sorry, I wasn't checking my phone._  
**Sent:** Friday, Oct 18 11:02pm

* * *

This was a bad idea.

Probably one of her worst, in fact, which was saying something. She should have just left everything where it was, should have just left the conversation to die and gone to bed and dealt with it all in the morning. She shouldn't have texted him back at all.

But dammit_, nothing_ tonight was going the way it was supposed to! At some point during the drive out, Korra had actually started to feel fine! Better! She'd almost forgotten how shitty the whole mess with Tahno was, about how stupid she'd been acting all this time—with _everyone—_and why couldn't things have just ended there? Instead of—and _then_—

* * *

**From:** T (D:)  
_Finally! Damn. Would it have killed you to have at least glanced at it sometime during the last four hours or so?_  
**Sent:** Friday, Oct 18 11:02pm

* * *

Her eyes narrowed into the screen.

She'd texted him back because she hadn't wanted to leave him completely hanging, especially not the night before such a significant race. It wouldn't have been fair.

_Doesn't mean I would have responded, _she texted back.

"Ugh," Korra quietly snarled, scraping clawed fingers through the air in her frustration. "So much for not being a jerk, Korra," she hissed derisively. Quickly, she sent—

_I couldn't really text back._

She felt jittery—and cornered and lost and—like she really, _really _needed to change. She'd kill for a shower, even, but that would have to wait until the morning. She had to get up in a matter of hours, anyway. As she ripped off her shirt, her phone vibrated again.

_Okay, fine, whatever, but back to the weird texts from this afternoon, _she read. _What is up with you? If I'd known that you were going to get so caught up in the homecoming thing, I would have told you. I just didn't think you would have __cared__._

Korra swallowed hard, and took her time changing into her sweatpants before answering. _Well, was it fun? _she asked. Lucky for her, bitterness didn't translate very well via text. (And neither did dejection.)

_What? Homecoming?_

_No, moron, your trip to the salon. YES, homecoming. _

With a heavy sigh, Korra flipped off the lights and crawled under the covers, completely ignoring her usual routine. Whatever. She'd worry about it in the morning. Korra squeezed her eyes shut against the moonlight filtering through the window, covering them with her clammy hand. She needed to get a grip. With another deep breath, Korra rolled over and plugged the charger into the slot on her phone, then carefully dragged it back over the mattress towards her pillow, where she curled herself into the sheets. She waited.

_Calm down, _she read, and though indignation spiked, her heart still skipped._ It was homecoming. What do you want me to say? I went, I danced, I won the stupid crown, I danced some more, and then I left. The end._

For a moment, Korra merely stared at the screen—reading it once, twice, three times—and then she saw it.

Now, Korra had never been to a high school dance before, but she'd been partying in clubs long enough to understand how varied the interpretations of _dancing _could be; a girl didn't live in Buenos Aires for as long as she did without becoming a master, after all. Like a cheap scene from one of her movies, her mind flooded with visions of a dark, crowded high school gymnasium: flashing lights, loud, pulsating music, thumping base—_high heels, just like Asami said_—and a thriving dance floor, filled with writhing bodies. She could picture it perfectly, could see it so clearly that it was impossible to imagine it happening any other way, and in the center of it all, under a layer of sheen sweat, was—_who else?_—Tahno, amidst the throbbing mess, head and body swaying to some rhythm she couldn't hear, wearing dark jeans and a white shirt under a black blazer—_though a few of the girls nearby were trying to pull it off. _He was _surrounded_ by them—two looked especially familiar, the ones she'd seen all those weeks ago—grinning, grinding, giggling—his gaudy crown hanging off some girl's arm like a bracelet, and as one crawled up his stomach—_as another rolled against him_—his mouth was behind another girl's ear, his fingers on her hips, her lips on his—

She felt sick.

_What was it like? _Korra asked, clutching her stomach, wrapping the covers more tightly around her.

_It was a dance. _And then: _Why's this such a big deal? I refuse to believe that someone like you would be that interested in something like this._

_Someone like me?_

_You know what I mean._

Korra frowned. Her typing was slow. Clumsy. _Can't say that I do._

_This is too hard to type over text. Just call me._

_Can't. The kids are sleeping in the room right next to mine. _That was, of course, an outright lie. The kids practically had their own wing. And so did she, for that matter, but for some reason, she just couldn't fathom the idea of having a real conversation with him in that moment. It was so much safer to text, right? She wouldn't be able to hear his voice and, more importantly, he wouldn't be able to hear hers.

_Fine. But you know what I mean. You're not ridiculous as the rest of this town is. You're different, okay? _

_Did you go with someone? _she asked out of nowhere, before she'd seen his text.

"Shit, why did I ask that?" she hissed, but at the same time, it gave her an excuse to continue avoiding his original question. _Different._ Different how? Her eyes squinted at the screen. Before she let herself get carried away with simple word denotations and vague, possible connotations and stupid, naïve, interpretations—

He didn't answer right away. That alone was enough to fray her nerves even more.

_I went with some of the team, _he finally responded.

"With your _team_?" Korra whispered into moonlit shadows. "Yeah, okay, buddy. This coming from the guy who essentially spits on his team when he doesn't have to deal with them, and probably even when he does. Right."

_I thought you said it was a thing for friends and dates, _she challenged, heart pounding.

_So I broke my own rules a little, again, what's the deal?_

_You seem to be breaking your rules a lot lately. _

_New girl, are you jealous or something? _Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump went her heart, as all of her fears came creeping, crashing back. _Is that why you weren't texting me back earlier? _

"Why are you so determined to know if I'm jealous or not," Korra muttered into her pillowcase, disregarding the painful lurch in her gut.

She ignored his persistent questioning. _I wasn't texting you back because I was out. _

_Out? This late before a meet?_

This wasn't working. A quick glance towards the cell phone's timestamp told her that it was _far _too late for her to be capable of typing anything even remotely productive. She was tired and—_still a little shell-shocked_—and very, very confused. It'd be better if she just finished this up, quickly, and put the cell phone away.

_Hey, even you suggested a late night park run, _she responded slowly, aiming for light. _And yeah, out. You know, just our typical team bonding shenanigans over ritualistic sacrifices._

She could _hear _the disdain in his voice as she read:_ While I wouldn't normally put it past the Fire Freaks, not even Mako would be dumb enough to pull that the night before he comes into our territory._

And, just like that, _there_—

—went all of her good sense.

(Or whatever was left of it.)

_And like you would know how Mako spends his Friday nights._

A few minutes passed, leaving Korra to silently fume into her bedsheets. She was so tired of high school drama already—and what month was it? It was only mid-October. Dealing with hormones she'd never experienced before—at least not so strongly—trying to talk to boys who liked her when they weren't supposed to, feeling like a hypocrite over shit she barely even understood herself—she was exhausted. Her cell phone vibrated, and her eyes popped open.

_Are you saying you would?_

"God," Korra sighed into the pillow. Was this ever gonna end? She texted: _What do you care?_

_I don't, _he responded immediately. _Mako's a dick._

_So are you._

_Yeah, but at least I'm upfront about it. That guy's nothing but a two-faced loser. _

_Well, now I see where your team gets their terrific sportsmanship from. _

_Seriously, _she read, and a distant part of Korra's fuzzy brain was ringing warning bells. _Was it with him? You couldn't text me because you were with douchebag Mako for the last however many hours?_

_What if I was?_

Another minute passed, as Korra's eyelids fluttered open and closed. Behind her eyelids, all she could see were bodies moving in the dark, and a distant, haughty, _hungry_ look in his eye that sent her world spiraling down.

_Seriously, were you?_

_Again, I don't understand why this is such a thing for you. It's not like you were gonna be there, anyway._

"Crap," Korra hissed in a broken whisper. _Stupid, stupid, what am I doing, take it back, _she breathed, brows furrowing as she reached for the keys. God, that must have blindsided him, Korra realized with gut-wrenching clarity. _I need to apologize, _and then: _I need to explain. Shit..._

_Look, Tahno, _she eventually typed._ This isn't how I wanted—_

* * *

But by the time she'd woken back up—tossed and turned herself awake at three in the morning—Korra only had an unfinished message sitting in her drafts, and she found a response waiting for her in the inbox, sent nearly forty minutes after her last text.

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* * *

**From:** T (D:)  
_Fine. Sorry I asked._  
**Received: **Saturday, Oct 19 12:21am

* * *

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Which meant that Korra didn't sleep very well after that.

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**.**

* * *

**End Note:** Next up... **4.0** - _RACE DAY_.

Good pain? Bad pain? I'm so tired_._ Please, please, _please_ let me know what you think!


	10. four

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.  
**Pairing(s): **Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra, one-sided Bolin/Korra  
**Genre:** Romance/Friendship/Drama  
**Word Count: **11,175**  
Rating:** PG-13/T  
**Summary: **The life and love of running, autumn, and high school cross-country. — Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra. AU.  
**Author's Notes: **_3/27/13__. _Sorry for the delay! This is a hugely important chapter and I've been working on it for a while. Please know that this story will end with **5.0**... and please review! :)

**Musical Inspiration: **Anything that will get you PUMPED. (For example, I listened to an obscene amount of "Thunderstruck" by AC/DC.) And then I topped it all off with "Titanium," the Madilyn Bailey Cover, even though that will always forever be my favorite Lin Bei Fong song.

* * *

**4.0**

* * *

Well. Mako was right.

She did wake up feeling like a completely different person.

* * *

Although _sleep _was a loose term, Korra drifted awake sometime right before her alarm was set to go off. It wasn't until the snooze button had been hit twice, however, that Korra finally managed to get herself out of bed.

"Take the apple for now," Tenzin told her at the breakfast table, once she'd found her way downstairs. He added more peanut butter to his toast. "You can eat the bar once it gets closer to race time, but you shouldn't have much in your stomach once it starts... at least, if you want it to stay there."

The car ride to the school was quiet, mostly because it was just the two of them. Pema and the kids were following at a less ungodly hour, but that didn't mean that the dark, early morning was without their support; a small handmade card rested in Korra's lap: signed, hearted, and with the words '_Do your best!_' scribbled in blue crayon. There was even a small stick figure of Korra racing across the finish line, a gold medal already hanging around her neck, and despite everything, Korra was finally feeling like it could happen. She glanced down one more time at the triumphant smile on the drawing's oblong face, and smirked.

Anything could happen.

* * *

**To:** T (D:)  
_Please don't delete this without reading it first. __Tahno, I'm so sorry. I was in the middle of writing you an apology when I accidentally fell asleep, and I didn't get your text until it was too late. I am SO sorry. Look, I know you're probably wondering what the hell is going on, but you've got your race to focus on too, so I promise that I'll explain ____everything after you win today. If you still want me to, that is.  
_**Sent********: **Saturday, Oct 19 6:48am_  
_

* * *

**To: **T (D:)**_  
_**_And just in case you wait until after the race to read these, well... I'm still hoping there's a chance that you're not too busy to keep your offer for tonight. ____  
_**Sent********: **Saturday, Oct 19 6:49am

* * *

Korra flopped onto the bus seat with a sigh, hoping that she'd done the right thing. She hadn't agonized much over what to say—it'd all just come out in a rush, like her fingers had known exactly what she'd needed to say the most—but instead what she _did _agonize over was whether or not her little attempts at damage control might potentially make things worse. She certainly didn't want him to think that she was just acting on a guilty conscience. (She wasn't. Was she?) But if she didn't text him at all, then he might think that she really _was _still angry with him, or that she was avoiding him, which could be just as harmful and—_really, _it was awfully presumptuous of her to think that he might be thinking about any of this at all, especially _today _of all days, but—whatever. She couldn't think about this anymore. There was _too much _thinking. And she had her own race to focus on, too.

_Which I'm gonna frickin' dominate, _she stared out into the dark parking lot, watching as the dawn began to break. _Just you wait._

A weight dropped onto the space at her side, breaking Korra's gaze from the hold of the brightening sky. She expected Bolin out of habit and Mako out of hope, but found Asami instead. Her surprise must have been obvious.

"Mako told me," Asami whispered.

Blind panic seized her, rocketing a million and one excuses and pleading apologies to the forefront of Korra's hay-wiring mind, but it was unnecessary. "I'm sorry, Korra," she quietly apologized, effectively shutting down all mental operations just a foot to her right. "I wouldn't have teased you so much about getting asked to the dance if I'd known about Bolin."

But that left her with hardly any relief.

* * *

Inside the bus was quiet; the air around Korra was literally buzzing with nervous energy, subdued and heavy. There were many music players and twice as many earbuds, and the most conversation she could hope for was a careful whisper. Many of her teammates' eyes were closed, but she knew better than to wonder if they were sleeping. The quiet could not be mistaken for calm.

The trees flashed by as the bus rolled down the highway, sweeping through a thick blanket of fog. Korra let her head rest against the window and mindlessly watched her breath condense along the glass. Occasionally, her mind slipped to the whereabouts of Mako and Bolin, who were apparently sitting together a few seats back. She had no idea what kind of things they'd talked about—or _hadn't_ talked about—since she last saw Mako the night before, but she tried not to let it worry her too much.

It was only a matter of a few miles, yet the distance was irrelevant; in some ways the trip seemed to take forever and in others—in strange, impossible ways—Korra felt like it was ending too quickly, as if she could stay on this bus for hours, feeding off of the intensity of her teammates, absorbing the quiet energy that undulated between the seats. She could feel herself growing more awake, more alert, and it didn't have anything to do with the rising sun. This wouldn't be her first race, but it would be the first to count.

"This is it," came Asami's whisper from the side. Korra straightened, looking out the windows on every side of her, but her captain only laughed. "No, listen. You can _hear_ it."

She wasn't exaggerating.

* * *

Although Korra was no expert on what a typical high-school cross-country meet was like, she could tell the differences immediately.

As soon as she stepped off the bus—duffel bag in tow, cheerful captain in tandem—Korra found herself in the wide expanse of a huge, busy parking lot, in which buses and cars of all shapes and sizes were filing in. Teams surrounded them on all sides, shuffling in packs of various colors and fabrics, chattering excitedly and heading off in the same direction. For a moment, Korra tried to take it all in, feeling the subtle pounding in her chest of the distant bass, not even noticing when Bolin and Mako passed them by and followed the rest of their team towards the fields beyond the wire fence; she was too busy reading the giant banner hung across the welcoming arch, for which someone was still stringing up the last of the balloons—_black and gray_, Korra remembered with a frown. _Or is it silver?_

"I know," Asami sighed with a grudging smile, breaking Korra from her reverie. "It's rather impressive, isn't it? Unfortunately."

"Is this our biggest race?"

"Nope," Asami smirked, noting Korra's awe. "But it's certainly one of the most important. Come on."

Beyond the parking lot was an entire world of bright, living green. White tents and tables welcomed them: the registration booths first, followed by a clearing with a stage and, of course, the speakers blasting the music that she'd felt all the way from the bus. Korra snuck a glance behind, only to find even more buses lining the parking lot, with even more student athletes trickling in. Everywhere she looked, there were huge arrows and signs detailing the locations of restrooms, a map with directions to the nearby lodge—owned by the local golf course, _an official sponsor of the White Falls Wolverines_—not to mention the snack stands and trainer tents, all enveloped by the far-off reaches of the surrounding forest. Korra's gaze roved the crowds, but too many senses were being assaulted all at once. Uniforms of all different colors, hoodies and tracksuits, and sneakers, _everywhere._ They passed another stage, this time with a podium for the awards ceremony, a number of computers and screens where the results would eventually be posted, and a giant, blank digital clock in black metal suspended over the stage.

"What's that for?"

"What? That?" Asami scoffed. "Just more proof of White Falls pretentiousness. That timer matches the one by the finish line, no doubt. But I bet that one's only a display... the one on the course actually has sensors to recognize the chip in your bib to record your exact time."

"_Chip_?" Korra repeated. "As in, like... a _micro_chip? But that's... That's so—"

"Fancy? Yeah, tell me about it. The way they run things here, you'd think they were trying to host a road race, rather than a simple school meet."

Farther along the path, they came across a large pavilion, painted muddy brown and full of people. There was another stage inside—much, _much_ smaller—that was playing music too, albeit not nearly as loudly. Korra still didn't know any of the songs' names, but the thumping bass and the steady drums were igniting all of the energy that she'd felt on the bus. Many of the people inside were wearing matching t-shirts—_White Falls Wolverines 79__th_ _Annual Cross-Country Invitational—_and the word 'VOLUNTEER' across the back in bold, capital letters. They were arranging boxes and coolers, setting up cash boxes and laying out t-shirts over picnic tables, animatedly talking over the loud music to one another as Korra watched on.

"Are all these people students?" Korra asked Asami, still eyeing everything in sight. Beyond the large pavilion were many, many more, though these were all much smaller in size. Extra picnic tables lined almost every green patch of grass available.

"Some of them might be, but there's plenty of family members too, I'm sure. And their sponsors and whatnot."

Korra watched in awe. "This is crazy." _Are all the big meets going to be like this?_

"I know," Asami laughed. "The Wolverines have a reputation of putting out... As much as we love to hate them—and hate them, we do—coming here _is_ a treat in some ways."

"How much farther do we have to go? This place is ginormous."

"Not much farther. Our usual spot is right up ahead."

'Right up ahead' meant what was literally the pavilion farthest away from the actual proceedings themselves, nestled right into the edge of the massive pines. Korra wondered how much of that was strategic—_it's certainly less likely for us to get in a giant brawl fight if we're as far away from one another as humanly possible_—and decided that she wouldn't blame the event coordinators even if it were. The fact that they had a designated space at all was already mind-boggling; they normally just threw their bags in a heap on the ground. They shared a pavilion with the Bau Ling Wasps, but most of them seemed pretty amiable, and a few of them even exchanged handshakes with the other Foxes. As Korra was settling down onto a bench of one of the picnic tables in the corner, she noticed that a camera crew was making its rounds.

"Hey, Asami?"

"Hmm?" she asked, sipping on her water.

"Do the Fire Foxes have this many supporters at _our _meets?"

An indignant gleam entered her eye. "We wouldn't if it weren't for the rivalry; most of _our_ school is too preoccupied with football and homecoming."

Korra winced, but tried not to show it. "Our football team... is it good?"

Asami considered this. "It's not _bad_," she said. Korra's frown deepened. "Hey, don't worry about it. It's not like—"

"Gather round, folks," Tenzin's deep voice resonated throughout the pavilion. The other team had gone off somewhere, left to do who knew what, but the Fire Foxes still huddled close, forming a half-circle around their coach. Korra hung in the back, standing behind the mostly seated crowd, and Asami stuck with her. She'd gotten so caught up in the morning's events that she'd completely forgotten to maintain her guard, and thus almost blew her calm when Mako took his place on Asami's other side. Their eyes met briefly, just barely even for a second, but Korra didn't dare linger any longer, and quickly faced forward. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Bolin had joined Mako at the end of the line, but it's not like she even _knew _if they were supposed to be on speaking terms or not, and Tenzin was already speaking, and—well.

Tenzin stood tall before them, hands crossed regally behind his back and a fierce light in his eyes, and that's when Korra _knew_.

This was it.

He looked at each of them, briefly, intently, sizing them up with quiet assessment, eyes hard and proud. It reminded Korra of the way he used to look at her when she was a little girl, when she came up for summer visits and she climbed trees for him and somersaulted off of swing sets; like he _knew_ she was crazy... but that he'd never expect anything less.

In a weird sense of awareness, Korra could suddenly _feel _the ground beneath her feet. It was vibrating below her, thrumming with the music and the many footsteps pounding into the soil all around her. She was grounded. Solid. Something had happened on that bus, when she'd stepped off of it and planted her feet onto the pavement—something was happening _now_. This wasn't just about a bunch of student athletes at a high school meet; she was eight-year-old Korra, launching herself off of a nine foot-high oak branch; she was fourteen-year-old Korra, trained tracker and experienced wildlife explorer, standing at the peak of a towering ice cap; she was ageless, endless, a warrior to span the times; she was the very earth itself, the spirit incarnate of all those who had come before her, protector, warrior, heroine; she was seventeen-year-old cross-country runner Korra, and today, someone was going to eat her dirt.

Tenzin's eyes locked onto hers.

"We're here," he announced, the bold twinkle in his eyes growing stronger. Korra could feel the energy shift around them, and her teammates burst into spontaneous applause, whooping and shouting out their battle cries, to which Tenzin merely smirked and raised a placating hand. "Well, good morning," he replied, voice grave, eyes teasing. "I suppose this is a good sign, but I'll begin with this word of caution: a winner _expects _to win, but an honorable winner does so with silence and humility. After all," he pauses, eyes crinkling. "The Fox rarely spoils his own trick." Another few stray whoops called out, but Tenzin let it slide, earning himself a rare chuckle. Korra couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him in such good spirits. _Well, hot damn_, Korra mused with a private smile. _It's like somebody's gone out and bought him a brand new yoga mat._

The laughter died down, and the seriousness dialed up. Tenzin's eyes grew fierce, his expression severe, and his smile expectant.

"If you're not prepared mentally," he warned them. "Then the race is already over."

* * *

The pep talk was over, but the team was still shifting and moving about as Tenzin called out his last-minute pointers. Korra curiously watched on as her teammates pulled out all sorts of contraptions—foam rollers and _magic sticks_ and other strange-looking things that were supposed to help their muscles, or something—and suddenly, she was surrounded by a veritable whirlwind of bodies engaging in all sorts of stretching maneuvers.

"I _know_ you!" Tenzin called out to the general mass, an accusing finger pointed to the team as a whole, and Korra had no idea what he was going to say, but half the people to her left were already cringing with guilt. "I know you, and I know that after that incline, you're going to want to fly down that hill—_don't_. It's not worth the potential for injury. Work the downhill to your advantage so you can recover, and take up your speed on the flat ground."

"Just how big is this hill?" Korra whispered, retying her laces.

Asami glanced up from her hamstring stretch, offering a wicked smile. "Why, Korra!" she whispered back. "I'd almost forgotten that this is your first time with Double D." Korra glowered; Asami merely laughed. "Trust me. It's _steep_. But you can handle it, I know you can."

"And don't forget your spikes!" Tenzin called out again. "It's best to put them in now, so you won't forget them come race time. The ground is still frozen in some parts, and muddy in others, so it's best not to take any chances."

Korra glanced down at the small, plastic organizer box still tucked in her bag, totally at a loss. She'd once joked that Tenzin only kept these boxes around to store his pills; he hadn't been too fond of that one, and she'd been more than a little surprised to find it full of tiny pieces of pointy metal. "Hey," she nudged Asami. "Sorry, but would you mind...?"

"First time using the spikes? Do you need to borrow any?"

"What? No, no, I've worn them once before, but—actually—I don't know anything about them, because the person who got me my shoes, well—here, this is what I've got."

"Whoah!" Asami quietly exclaimed, taking the small plastic box in her hands. Inside the opaque container were many small dividers, each organizing different sized bits of metal. "You have a really nice set, Korra. Whoever got these for you knew what they were doing."

"Ha, ha... _yeah_," Korra laughed nervously, forcing herself not to look up at Tenzin... and failing. She glanced up and saw that he'd caught what they'd said; he was as terrible at hiding his smirk as she was in believing that it was even possible. She made a quick face and turned back to Asami, cursing his unusually good mood. "Thanks."

Asami was still admiring her spikes. "Yikes, look at the millimeters on these suckers," she held up a particularly long one and smiled deviously. "Here, take these. You won't really need the longer ones."

Asami screwed the first one in for Korra, showing her the differences between utilizing all of the holes and only a few; based on her shoes and Asami's suggestions, Korra ended up screwing in all five of hers on each foot.

"We won't need them for a little while yet, though, so just wear your regular sneakers for now," Asami explained. "Since so many schools are coming from far away, this meet starts a little bit later than the others. Our race won't start until ten, and the boys' won't start until eleven."

She glanced at her cell phone. "But it's just before nine. What are we supposed to do until then?" Korra asked.

"Well, the early arrival is mainly a way for the coaches to get together and network, or to sign up for workshops and conventions and stuff. Plus, it gives a nice cushion for any traffic issues for the far-away schools. We can go to the merchandise tents and buy some t-shirts, but Fire Fox kids don't really ever wear White Falls gear... and believe me, they get plenty of donations without any help from us. I guess maybe they'd hope that we would just entertain ourselves with warming up or something."

"Isn't the whole point to rest beforehand?"

"In this weather, we gotta stay warm," she winked. "C'mon, let's run."

Asami reached down to offer Korra a hand, which she gratefully accepted. The rest of the girls were gearing up too, and it occurred to her that Asami was keeping awfully close today.

"I'm okay," Korra said suddenly. She'd meant to tell Asami that she didn't need to feel sorry for her, or maybe that she hadn't meant to make Asami think that she _needed_ somebody to watch over her because of whatever happened with Bolin, but the words came out easily, like she'd meant them. _I do mean them. _

Asami merely smiled. Warmly.

"I know."

* * *

Before they went out to explore on their jog, Asami briefly took another girl aside to chat about something or other; she was _still_ terrible with names, but Korra knew her as one of the other strong varsity runners who had originally evoked jealousy from her. While they spoke, Korra fiddled with the phone in her pocket, telling herself that it was no use hoping for it to vibrate. Today would be one of the last mornings she should expect a message from him.

Korra watched on as the girl smiled wide and Asami gave her a thumbs up. Next thing she knew, this young girl called out to the ladies of the team, telling them to group up.

"What just happened?" Korra asked curiously. "Isn't that your job?"

Asami smiled. "I'm training the new candidates for captain," she explained, easily falling back in line with Korra at the end of the trail. "Since I won't be running cross-country next year."

Korra blinked. "What?"

"I've always been more of a track kind of girl," Asami shrugged, unfazed. "I can hurdle like nobody's business. I was into volleyball for a little while and decided to give cross-country a try since I was so into indoor track, but... I'm thinking of looking into field hockey for my senior year." Korra digested this.

"You can do that?"

Asami merely winked. "You should see me play lacrosse in the spring; it's a different set of rules, but I'll still get to carry a big stick."

When Asami tilted her head and ran, Korra followed and, in spite of everything, she laughed.

* * *

There were so many teams. Asami and Korra were bringing up the rear, and as their pack passed through the throngs of people, Asami carefully pointed out and explained the different areas.

"You see that team over there? That's the Capital City Wildcats," Asami explained in a subdued voice, feet softly padding along the hard ground. "That's where we'll be next week. Their meets are always pretty chill, and their team is really solid. A lot of our team really likes going there because it's so much more relaxed and smaller than the ones like these."

"I kind of like this," Korra smirked, eyeing the hoards of people. "I could get used to feeling like I can crush so many people standing in my way all at once."

Asami laughed. "I feel like someone should just give you a pair of boxing gloves and throw you in a cage."

The boxing reference niggled at the back of Korra's mind, but some other distant thought caught her attention first. "You know what though? That school sounds really familiar, like I've heard it before."

"Well, I did mention it yesterday on the drive home, when you asked about inter-school relationships."

"No," Korra shook her head, eyes narrowing. "It's not that... It's like... It's like I heard about them even _before _I came here. But that doesn't make sense."

Asami looked at her. "Could you have?"

Korra gave up, shrugging. "Where would I have heard about them from? I don't know, probably just something that Tenzin was droning on about when I wasn't listening."

"Korra!" Asami giggled. "That is no way to show respect for your coach!"

Korra tripped over a pebble in her path. "Ha, ha... _yeah_."

Unluckily for her, a few team members from the Wildcats noticed. She glared while they sniggered. _Fine. Underestimate me, why don't you_?

The crease between Korra's brow smoothed, and her smiled slipped back into place. After all... a fox never spoiled her trick.

* * *

It was only about twenty minutes in before Korra realized she couldn't deny it anymore.

She was looking for him.

"Remember your cross-country mantra?" Asami asked, as they rounded a bend. After going through a number of in-depth explanations for most of the teams present—the Northside school, unfortunately, had yet to arrive—Asami had taken it upon herself to fill Korra's head with helpful reminders for the race.

"Which one?" Korra puffed out her cheeks. "I swear, people could write a book on running mindsets and strategies."

"Oh, they have," Asami informed her cheerily. "A few of them are actually pretty good. If you ever want to borrow any—"

That's when they saw them.

"Ah," Asami's voice dropped low, as they kept pace with the rest of the team. The shoulders of the girls up front had all inevitably stiffened. "Looks like we've entered Wolverine territory, at last."

Korra looked up, but tried to shield her gaze from being too obvious. The first thing she saw were the black and silver uniforms, the matching windbreaker pants and jackets with freshly embroidered names customized over biceps, chests, and backs.

"Must be nice to be able to buy new ones every year," a girl ahead of Korra commented bitterly. "Instead of having to cycle and reuse uniforms like us."

Korra tried to stamp the voice out of her head, letting her eyes rove over the huddles of teammates as casually as possible. Naturally, their pavilion was the largest, and much of it was decorated with their home colors. Many of the the teammates were up and about, talking in hushed voices and sending occasional sidelong glances towards them, but some were also doing a variety of warm-up stretches, both active and stationary.

"Damn," Asami said in a soft voice to Korra, keeping her eyes mostly forward. "Would you look at that? Not a single one of them is smiling. And look, over there… It's a few of Tahno's fan girls, come to cheer him on."

Korra's stomach wobbled, but at least this time she made sure to keep her pace. Asami was right though; she recognized the dynamic duo in street clothes immediately.

"They're looking this way," Korra whispered back. "Are they… _glaring _at us?"

Asami smirked. "Looks like they're glaring at _you._ Haven't done anything recently to piss them off, have you?"

Korra remembered her vision of their dreaded Homecoming from the night before and how she'd felt. Vindictive. Jealous. Bitter. "I may or may not have had a run-in with Tahno at the first meet," Korra divulged, staring the girls back down with a stink-eye. "They probably haven't been too keen on me since."

Asami's smirk widened. "Guess not. Looks like no one messes with Tahno and comes out of it without a few enemies," she laughed.

Korra licked her lips, privately enjoying the girls' embittered glares perhaps a bit _too _much; she had to though, because if she didn't, if she let herself think for just one second too long where _else_ she could imagine those girls— "It probably didn't help that I snuck in an insult or two about his hair, either."

"Korra, you _didn't_," Asami laughed under her breath. "Forget the fan girls—_no one_ insults Tahno's hair and comes out alive. You're lucky he didn't take you out himself!"

For a moment, Korra's brain fumbled with Asami's choice of words—_my night is not yet spoken for—_but even after she got things mostly sorted out, the most she could manage was a short, stiff, "Er_—_right."

"_Ah_," Asami breathed. "Speaking of: wherever the fan girls are, the Wolverine King can't be too far away. Look. There he is."

Korra's whole chest expanded with the force of her inhale, leaving her dizzy; it took another breath before her cowardly eyes finally followed orders and glanced up.

She almost wished she hadn't.

Although Asami was apparently right about the _fan girl-proximity_ rule, he was still a little ways away, situated on the other side of some picnic benches underneath their pavilion; far enough away that she couldn't read the silver embroidery on his jacket, but close enough that she could see the serious tilt to his brow, could easily see the cold focus in his determined gaze. He was on the ground, sitting tall and staring straight ahead while a man in similar colors—his coach—stood over him. The man was speaking to him very quietly, with hushed tones and serious expressions while Tahno stretched, one leg extended and the other bent, with one heel brought close to his hips. His expression was so carefully blank, so coldly carved that she had no way of knowing if Tahno was even listening.

He didn't look up at them as they passed.

"I told ya," Asami whispered, as their team seemingly released a collective breath. _"__Nothing_ shakes that guy's focus."

Korra nodded absently. She couldn't respond.

"So," her—_ex?_—captain started anew. "That mantra. The single most important pacing guide that you'll take with you into any endurance race?" Korra blinked a few times, finally registering that Asami had spoken. Asami nodded patiently, then prompted: "Hey. Earth to Korra. Remember? The runners from the other teams? _Use 'em…?_"

She allowed herself one fruitless glance back, but her shoulder sagged as she ran, just a little. He still hadn't seen.

Korra swallowed.

"Then lose 'em," she whispered.

* * *

"This is it, ladies," Asami's voice rang out at the head of the pack, back in her usual place as the leader of the female running warriors. "Trade your shoes for flats and spikes. Playtime's over."

* * *

Korra didn't have a chance to even see the Amon Prep team until she was in the adjacent box at the starting line, but by then she was too amped to notice much of anything but the heart beating in her chest, and the sweat beading down her spine.

Asami was _fierce;_ it was half the reason why Korra was feeling like she was already on fire, like they could take down these teams together, like they were unstoppable. She knew that there were people crowded not too far behind her, pressing in against the plastic tape and flags dangling in the autumn wind, screaming and shouting their support as the runners prepared their final warm-ups. She would know Meelo's ferocious call to arms anywhere.

All she could see before her was a long expanse of open field, mostly green with dying patches of dried brown, and at the end was a narrow footpath under a natural arch of pine tree branches. The path led to the trail that would take her all throughout the forest, winding along the property's edge by the neighboring golf course, back through the woods around the lake, up the dreaded Double D and down the long, smooth slope that would eventually carry her to the final stretch—just another half mile of long, flat dirt and stone under the shade of trees, and then finally, where the woods ended, Korra would only have just four hundred yards until the finish line, and then...

Then she would be free.

Korra ran in place, pumping blood and warmth into her legs. The loss of her extra layers was impossible to ignore, even with the additional protection of her leggings, underarmour, and fleece headband. But the chill kept her awake, kept her _alive_; there was something in the pit of Korra's gut like she had never felt before, not even in the deepest corners of the world. She was a live wire, an open nerve, and now, in this moment, she could run a marathon or climb a mountain or _kill_. She was focused. She had all of this energy and power bottled up inside her and the _tension_ and the _frustration_ and finally, undeniably, Korra felt _good_. Strong. Fast. She was tensed and ready, coiled like a spring, and today, she was going to dominate.

Before she knew it, she was off.

She _felt _the gunshot fire into the air, even if she couldn't hear it; where she should have heard the roaring thunder of a hundred of footsteps pounding into earth, Korra only heard the profound silence of an empty, open field as it grew smaller and smaller, closer and closer. (It was _calling _her.) Elbows dug into her ribs, knocking bones together with grunts and panting breaths as the runners struggled to keep pace and maintain their line; for a few moments, they were all in tandem, pushing forward like a solid wall hurtling toward the forest, and then the clearing tapered down to a mere dirt path. Suddenly, it was chaos, contained—lined and arranged by order as the runners quickly formed ranks that were ever-shifting, always changing. Korra nearly lost Asami during the first struggle to insert herself into the mess, but a quick burst of speed saved their partnership at the very last second. They couldn't waste breath on encouraging one another with words, but Korra could tell that Asami was proud of her, and that gave Korra all the will she needed to keep pace. She felt invincible.

_Careful, _her mind warned. Korra could already tell that some were running too fast, exhausting themselves beyond repair, and she was wary of those who were letting themselves drift behind too easily; they would be back, and if she wasn't cautious, they would gladly overtake her.

Korra scoffed, letting out a feral smirk.

_They can try. _

And deeper into the forest, they went.

* * *

"Do it," Asami's gritty voice rasped out. Her captain kept shooting demanding glances her way, but Korra couldn't bring herself to tear her eyes away from the path. Small groups of twos and threes shadowed them from behind the shrubbery they'd just passed, but in the stillness of the woods, they were mostly alone. "Don't hold it—in. You'll feel—better—afterwards."

A sharp shake from Korra's head, her neck stiff with determination. Her stomach was rebelling against her, and acid was welling up into her throat, but she forcefully swallowed it back down. It was better than blood, anyway.

"Almost—done," Asami urged her. "Stay—with me through—Double D—_at least. _We'll go down—together."

Korra breathed in and out—in, then out, _in_, then—_oh god, _she thought, as her stomach rolled. The roof of the trees had ended, and she'd shot straight out into a small clearing, which seemed to end as soon as it started. At first Korra's mind couldn't register the new line of trees immediately blocking her path, until she realized that the trail took a sharp turn and—_oh, no way. No way_. She kept running—because she _had _to—but the sight before her... _Oh god. _

"Ah—_sami_—"

"Do it, Korra," she hissed, and Korra had the distinct impression that she was no longer referring to the pool of stomach acid threatening to rise. For a split second, her mind was blank—_quit, quit now_—but with a soft grunt, Korra shifted her weight to the balls of her feet and swung her arms more purposefully, pumping her body forward; that first drive of her knee onto the hill was one of the hardest steps Korra had ever taken... at least, until she took her second. Or her third. Or the eleventh. But still, Korra listened, and Korra ran.

Because the only way to go was up.

* * *

She'd made it maybe fifteen steps out of the chute before she was tackled.

"_Oh my—god!_"

She was going to throw up. She was going to just keel over and vomit, just like she'd always feared, but someone was holding her up, with tight arms wound around her torso, so maybe not? _Oh!—oh, just kidding, maybe yes. I'm going to throw up. Like... Right now. Just like_—_ugh, just like the girl behind me, oh god_—_or better yet, I'm just gonna drop, maybe collapse onto the hard, solid ground and just explode, or melt, or—_

"You did it!" came a muffled cheer.

Asami pulled her face out of the crook of Korra's sweaty shoulder to watch her response, but she merely blinked. "I did?" Korra replied uncertainly, as a wave of vertigo rushed through her. Did she still have feet? Where were they? _What are feet?_

"Yes!" Asami exclaimed, her face beet-red with exhaustion and ecstasy. Korra could practically smell the endorphins flying off of her. In a really strange way, it was calming. "You did! You tore that hill apart!"

"Really? Because I'm pretty sure it was the other way around."

Asami squeezed Korra with all of her might, locking her in a side hug that she was too tired to fight anyway—and whatever, it wasn't a big deal if she actually sort of liked it, right?—and let out all of her excess energy in a very joyous squeal; trapped inside Asami's embrace as she was, Korra got the full brunt of it. She didn't mind.

"Congratulations, lady," she announced proudly, slipping away and standing tall in the breakthrough sunlight. "You just ate that hill for breakfast."

"Oh, god," Korra groaned. She doubled over dramatically and thrust one hand out towards Asami for support. "Please don't mention breakfast."

Asami laughed like crazy, which made Korra feel crazy, but also really, _really_ happy. Genuinely so. _Surprisingly so_. As the rest of the world began to make itself known to Korra again, she realized just how... _awesome _she felt.

"You look like someone who's still drugged up on a running high," Asami quipped knowingly.

"Oh, trust me. Everything frickin' _hurts_, but... yeah. I feel good. I feel..."

"Alive?"

"Yeah," Korra repeated with a smile. "Alive. In _pain,_ but definitely alive."

"You want to check out the results tent?"

Korra paused her light stretching, freezing her extended arms in place above her head, and blinked. "Results?"

"Yeah, you know—your placement and everything."

"Oh."

She'd forgotten.

"Whoah, I'll take that as a yes, then? Your smile just got like, freakishly wide and—"

"No," Korra replied with a smirk. "That's okay, I'll... I can wait."

* * *

Asami wasn't kidding about the runner's high; she felt incredible. After the character-breaking, soul-chewing experience that was Double D, she'd finally gotten her second wind at the very top of the hill. She _drove _up that climb, literally pushed herself to the limit to reach the summit, and when she finally arrived there—in a world of crisp, gorgeous autumn, where not all the trees had yet lost their leaves—she felt the way she sometimes did when she was in the park, when she was with—_when she was with Tahno—_like she was flying.

She wished he could have seen her.

Korra deepened the stretch, taking an even firmer hold on the soles of her regular sneakers as she laid her chest over her thigh. The stiff grass tickled her skin, even through the fabric. With a sigh, she rested her forehead against her knee, and hid her frown.

She wasn't even really sure what it was that she wanted him to know; it'd been obvious for some time that she'd been stronger over the last few weeks, and where the improvement was coming from really _was_ anybody's guess... It was probably a result of a lot of things.

But she had a sneaking suspicion that it had less to do with her eating plan, and more to do with her motivation.

She'd told Mako the night before that maybe her brain just hadn't switched over yet... _Well. It's definitely switching all over the place now. _That flight down the hill had been exhilarating, but it was also terrifying; Korra could understand all too easily the temptation that Tenzin had warned them about. All it would have taken was a tiny burst of extra speed and she really _would _have been flying. It helped to have Asami there to guide her, but it took all of her will power not to let herself lose control. And that's when she'd felt it—_the switch_. The pain turned into awareness and the restraint—the control—turned into _freedom_ and she got it Or, at least... she was finally _starting_ to get it.

She'd lasted just until the bottom of the hill, and then Asami took off like a bullet. Korra had watched her back disappear behind a curve of trees in awe, too impressed by her stamina to feel very jealous, and tried to keep pace with as many of the other teams until she was certain that she'd recovered enough to kick things up a notch. She could hear the crowd through the last fringes of the forest, feeling their cheers reverberate through the spaces between the trees; the ground was flat and covered in mulch, a narrow, winding trail that wove around a little ways away from the perimeter of the lake, with steep banks leading down to a lower trail closer to the water's edge—but that wasn't enough to stop Korra from tearing through the ranks. She _plowed _toward that finish line, and when she came bursting out of the woods and into the open air of the final stretch, she nearly faltered—so disoriented by the light and the hordes of people—but she kept running, even when she thought she was going to fall, to collapse, to cry, to simply break, because there were too many people behind her, gaining on her, and she would rather break into a thousand pieces than let them take what belonged to _her._

And then everything had happened all at once.

One second she was racing toward the finish line—a long, wide, seemingly innocuous line on the ground, if not for the giant timer hanging over it, and the throngs of people screaming from behind their metal barriers—and the next she was over it. Done.

Done.

She'd been moving so fast, but the chute was starting to clog with so many people, and she had to keep _moving_, she couldn't stop because everything inside her was still rattling around—her legs were throbbing, fingers twitching, heart pumping, stomach churning—like her body still expected her to run farther—_forever—_but the people were everywhere and there was nowhere to go. Korra desperately ran in place, trying to slow her heart rate while she waited for the back-up to clear away, when she felt the first bouts of nausea truly begin to emerge. The sweat was cooling on her skin, and everyone in uniform around her looked miserable, and she asked herself again—_Why?_

And then that whole exchange with Asami, her captain—_her friend?_—and later with Aunt Pema and Jinora and Ikki and Meelo and Uncle Tenzin... They all looked so proud of her as she slowly made her way over to them, and her heart swelled with gratitude as they jogged to meet her halfway and encased her in a group hug that warmed every inch of her. Nobody even complained about how much she smelled. (Meelo didn't count.) She'd almost forgotten that they'd been waiting for her at the end of the race, and seeing their proud and cheery faces soothed Korra's aching muscles in ways that foam rollers and magic sticks never would. _Okay, that's probably a lie_, she admitted to herself, as she'd waved them goodbye and made her way back towards the others. It was the thought that counted.

Mako and Bolin were out on their warm-up, but the whole boys' team gave a truly rousing cheer as they passed by their sweaty, happy female counterparts, who were taking a brief moment of respite by lounging in the grass. She gave them all a victorious thumbs-up and whooped, long and loud. Her feelings must have been clear as day, because Mako was practically beaming... and Korra's smile was nothing less than genuine as she and Bolin locked eyes. He even managed a quirky double finger-gun, which only made her smile even harder. It was as if things were almost back to normal.

_Maybe even better?_

But here she was, back in the pavilion with the rest of her teammates, laced up in her regular, muddy running shoes, and thinking about the one face she hadn't seen since crossing over the finish line.

Korra took a deep breath and rose up, releasing the stretch to simply sit and take a moment to not think too much about anything. This was ridiculous. Of _course_ he hadn't messaged her back; he had a race to win, and the last thing he needed pestering him was some half-sensical half-apology for some pseudo-issue that didn't even make much sense anyway in the first place. And she did _well_ today. For the first time, Korra was finally feeling like not only could she survive a race, but that she could keep up, too... and to be honest, since the whole disorienting, confusing—terrifying—displacement of her move, she was finally starting to feel like she could keep up in other ways, too. She'd screwed up last night, but she'd screwed up plenty of times, and things always worked out in the end, right? Korra couldn't worry about it now; what she _should_ be focusing on was how wonderful her body felt, and how free her mind _could_ feel, and just what she was capable of because, truly, Korra hadn't known.

This was her best race.

No matter what the records showed.

* * *

"Aren't we going to do our cool-down run?"

"We gotta see the boys off first," Asami nodded, face flushed. "We'll do our easy jog around all of the spectator points so we can watch what little of the race we can."

Korra's heart skipped. "We'll actually be able to see them on the course?"

"At parts. I know it's kind of hard to remember because you were so in the zone, but a bunch of people had formed little crowds during our race, too."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but like I said: when you're in a race, everything else is just irrelevant."

Korra frowned.

"Right."

* * *

Korra awkwardly waited at the fringes, trying to ignore the niggling itch of guilt and shame; Asami's conversation with Mako appeared to be over, and she was awarding him with a good luck kiss. Bolin seemed equally interested in looking elsewhere, and when their gazes accidentally met, it was with all the awkwardness Korra had really hoped would die. The awful feeling didn't disappear when Asami returned, but it was a far better alternative to having her standing so close to Mako. Everything about the whole exchanged seemed stiff and unnatural, which was so unlike everything that Korra had come to know.

"Bad news," Asami said in a quiet voice when she'd slipped back into the large group of cheering Fox girls. Korra's eyes narrowed with concern.

"What is it?"

"Nothing all that surprising, but it's still not a good start," Asami whispered with a huff, eyeing the boys' teams beyond the tape. The Fire Foxes were one of the first teams to arrive, and the boxes were filling up quickly. "The Northside Brothers are here."

Korra waited. "So?"

"It seems that the captain has an even greater penchant for trash-talking than our dearly beloved Wolverine King," she hissed, while Korra's stomach somersaulted. "Apparently, he's far less combative than any of the other jerks we've encountered, but... I don't know, Korra," she admitted worriedly. "This guy must have a way with words or something, because this is looking _bad._ Mako couldn't tell me everything, but I know him; he's riled up."

"But... but that's good, right?" Korra tried. "He can use all that energy to his advantage."

"Not if he loses that hot head of his," she grumbled, but there was real concern hidden beneath the annoyance, which made Korra hesitate**.** "And that's not the worst of it—the Fire Foxes weren't the only ones present for the whole macho throw down, either."

"You... you mean—"

"Yep," Asami sighed, and offered Korra a meaningful glance. The crowds were still cheering all around them, but Korra could only hear the beating of her heart, thumping loudly in her ears. "I don't know what was said... But I bet it wasn't pretty."

Korra continued to stare at the other girl long after she had turned toward the starting line and flipped the 'captain' switch back to _on! _The noise of the crowd came filtering back into Korra's brain and she blinked away the confusion, carefully turning her gaze back toward where Mako and Bolin were whispering intently. She tried watching their expressions to see if any more could be given away, but their faces were ironclad masks: stern, stoic, and focused. When she felt the skin of her neck prickle—the feeling of being watched, herself—Korra's head snapped to the side, quietly seeking out the pair of eyes that she hadn't even realized she'd been waiting for.

Eventually, amidst the busy mass of black and gray, she found them. They just weren't looking back.

_C'mon, look at me_, Korra silently begged. _Please, look at me._

But of course he didn't. He was Tahno, Captain of the White Falls Wolverines, and he was going to win this race. He didn't have time to look back at a strange, little foreign girl he'd only met a few weeks ago, and a mediocre running partner who bothered him on the weekends. She didn't even respond to his texts properly.

Korra bit her lip hard, trying not to _lose it_ at the worst possible moment in the worst possible place—especially not after all that she'd been able to handle that very morning. _God_. What had happened to all of that control that she'd been blathering on about just twenty minutes ago? But the truth was growing more and more impossible to ignore: she missed him.

She missed him so bad, even though he was _right there_, and she'd never felt the distance more strongly than she did now. Anger and embarrassment and shame and a million other emotions too confusing to name washed through her, but it was too much to think about all at once—and she was _not _going to start falling apart as soon as she was finally starting to pick herself up—so she squashed it all down, brutally, forcefully, until everything was back in place. Including her tears.

She swallowed, and when she looked up—Mako's eyes were staring right into hers, tight with confusion and concern. Her breath hitched in her throat—_did he see... how much did he...?_—as a fleeting moment of panic swept through her, but then she forced herself to relax—_control._ It didn't take long for her to find the Amon captain: a tall, broad-shouldered guy who _exuded_ leadership, and who she might have admitted to being reasonably attractive, if she didn't know him to be such a danger. Her gaze pointedly flickered between the two of them, and when it finally rested on Mako, she gave him a savage smirk; he seemed perplexed, but willing to play along. Warmth flooded Korra's belly, and the smirk became a smile. Later, she would regret it, but in the moment, it felt right; it was simply an impulse.

"Go for it," she mouthed.

The words left a bitter taste in her mouth as soon as she said them, and her smile turned forced, but Mako didn't notice; he was already turning back around, _his _smile set firmly in place. A sinking feeling swirled in Korra's gut, so strongly that the nausea came back in full-force, but—_control_—she held it together. She could do this. She could stand there and watch Mako take off and not think about all the things that were wrong with this picture and—_who was missing from it_—or what else she'd screwed up lately, and instead focus on the important things, like—

Like how Tahno was looking at her.

The realization of this fact was enough to yank the world right out from underneath her, but she was still inexplicably upright, staring back. She blinked, still processing the strain in his jaw and the coolness in his eyes, and by the time it really _hit _her, he was already staring straight ahead, eyes blank, and she felt the gunshot all the way to her core.

* * *

"C'mon, ladies," Asami soflty sighed beside her. "Let's make this a cheering cool-down run, shall we? If we jog to the spectators' points, we just might be able to catch them throughout the whole thing!"

Her hand shot out, clasping around Asami's wrist. The other girls rushed on ahead of them, chatting excitedly with the massive migration of the crowd.

"Asami," Korra whispered carefully. _Control. _"Are they... are they gonna be all right?"

It wasn't what Korra wanted to hear.

"I don't know," Asami wavered. "Maybe I'm worrying too much... I just hope they can keep it together. Korra, are you okay?"

Korra swallowed bile. "What do you mean?"

Asami paused, licking her lips thoughtfully. She tried to return her gaze, but her eyes just couldn't seem to stay level. "Never mind," she whispered, giving Korra's hand a gentle squeeze. "Now, come on. We've got a race to watch."

* * *

They missed the first two spectator points due to the crowds, but the top candidate for the following year's captain position knew a shortcut to the third—_brownie points_, Asami had laughed—and soon they were huddled together around the wooden gate that divided the race course from the many hiking trails woven into the forest. Her fingernails dug into the bark as she waited, but everyone else was far too excited themselves to notice Korra's crippling anxiety.

Asami kept glancing at her occasionally, but she _couldn't _look back. Not yet. Not until she was sure.

"Here they come," Asami whispered.

Korra's fingers clenched onto the fence with all her might, and the people behind her—her teammates, their sponsors, supporters—inched closer to be the first to see, but it was no use; Korra was right at the gate, lodged in the tight space between Asami and another Fox, crumpled against the wooden poles. She could hear the footsteps pounding into the ground from around the bend, and her breathing—_everything_—simply stopped.

The wind was biting, but Korra barely felt it at all.

The older Northside brother—_Noatok_, she'd learned—was who she saw first, which sent her insides sprawling into a chaos worse than she'd ever known, but a quick second passed and Tahno—_Tahno!_—appeared from around the bend, neck-and-neck with his competitor. They were fierce and fearsome and all the layers of focused she's always heard them to be; this wasn't supposed to be something new to Korra, but this—_this_—was a version of him she had never seen—_you haven't seen him on the course_—and she couldn't say that she knew exactly how to feel.

Mako and Tarrlok were close behind—and it was then that she heard just how loud the screaming had escalated—but none of them saw her, none of them had the time to spare a single look, not now.

And just as quickly as they'd come, they were gone, followed by packs of colors and fabrics and so, so many athletes, and still, she couldn't see any of them. She could only see Tahno's face, intent and clear and determined. Was he even the same person? Did the universe really expect her to believe that _he _was supposed to be the same guy who shared his Spaghetti-Os with her two nights before? He was so fast. He looked so... focused.

Like nothing in the world could stop him.

And she hated herself for it, but deep, _deep_ down—in that stupid, stupid selfish part of her that Korra knew was there and hated—Korra wondered just how much she could really hope for in a guy who could so easily separate his feelings, especially when hers were nothing but a clouded, chaotic mess. Korra wondered just how much of the previous night's insecurities were actually unjustified; she wondered just how much he really thought of her.

Korra swallowed back her tears, again. _No, _she scolded. _Not yet._

"_Go," _she urged him, in a quiet whisper only she could hear. "_C'mon, pretty boy."_

And then the crowd was moving on, already ready for more, but Korra couldn't release her fingers from the bark.

"Korra?" Asami called.

"You... go on ahead," she nodded unsteadily, feeling sick. "I think I'm going to head back to the main camp instead."

"Are you... are you feeling all right?"

A lie was already on the tip of her tongue, but for reasons she was too tired to comprehend, she withheld it. "No," she answered hesitantly. "Not really."

Asami nodded. "Do you need someone to go with you?"

"No... No, I'll be okay enough on my own. I just need to... I'll meet you back at the main camp."

And then Asami left and Korra ran, and she didn't stop running until she was all the way back at the finish line. She'd meant to keep going—_forever_—but then she caught sight of the giant clock hanging over the familiar line of innocuous victory, and she couldn't bear to stray away. A self-depreciative smile crossed her lips and, with an ironic huff, Korra resigned herself to her post: an empty, insignificant spot among the many others lining the final stretch, somewhere between the trees and the end.

Korra waited among the quickly-growing crowd, watching the timer tick away. She couldn't help it; she thought, _What was Tahno's personal record again? _Her brows furrowed together, and she peered closer into the line of the trees, looking for any sign of movement. _Weird, _Korra thought.

She wondered if—somehow—the timer might have been off.

* * *

That's when she should have realized that something wasn't quite right.

* * *

When she first saw the medical team, her first thought was —_Tahno_.

But the body was all wrong and the uniform shouldn't have been _those colors _and that wasn't Tahno on the stretcher—

—it was Mako.

* * *

"Wha—_what_?" Korra whispered brokenly, while her once-captain rushed beside her. She immediately clutched onto her wrist for support. "What _happened_?"

"Oh god," Asami hissed, sliding her palm, tense and open and stiff, against her temple. "Oh, god."

"Asami—_what_—?"

"Quick, we gotta get over there before too many people crowd around and we can't get in!"

"What is going—?"

It wasn't until they got closer that Asami saw; Korra couldn't tell if her sigh was from relief—or fear.

"He got spiked," she quietly hissed.

"What—what does that _mean_?"

Asami's eyes were drawn tight with worry, but neither girl could move any farther. They were still clinging onto one another's wrists, trying to weave their way through the onlookers, and Asami was getting impatient; Korra held tight with all her strength as Asami shoved through crowd. "_Goddammit_—let us through! Come on, people! Ugh."

"Asami—"

"It's one of the dirtiest tricks a cross-country runner can try," she spat, her other fist clenching at her side. "Save for flat-out pushing them over a cliff."

Korra didn't need any further clarification.

They kept pushing and pulling, nearing the medical trainer's tent with each shove growing rougher than the last, and as they got closer they could see a new crowd forming—race officials and coaches and medical personnel and—

_Oh, no. _

Panic seeped into Asami's voice. "Oh, shit," she hissed as they almost reached the tent. "If it was too close to his heel—no, no, it can't have been. It had to have been just the calf muscle. If it's just the calf, then—"

"It's all right, girls," came a deep voice from the side, effectively stopping them in their tracks.

"Tenzin," Korra breathed. Her exhale lifted an impossible weight from her body, but she was still wound tight enough to snap in half at the slightest prod.

"It's a shallow wound... as far as these things go," he replied tiredly, already so very different from the lively, youthful uncle she'd had that morning. "It'll take a day or two, but he'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" Asami whispered. Korra could feel her trembling. She couldn't tell if it was from concern... or rage. Tenzin's look was understanding.

"Yes."

And it occurred to Korra, then—_where is Tahno?_

"So everything is going to be okay?" Korra asked, needing her uncle's reassurance. Asami stood silently beside her, stiff as a board.

"Not... just yet," Tenzin cautioned. "There is the potential matter of pressing charges."

Korra's brain went blank, and Asami beat her to it.

"Pressing charges?" she balked. "Against whom?"

Korra's mind reeled. _Who the hell would...?_ One of the notorious Northside Brothers? She didn't know about the younger one, but the older one certainly _seemed _capable of something like—

Tenzin looked up, in the direction of another group of people on the opposite end of the camp, huddling around another tent. On the far side of the field was Tahno... surrounded by administrators and a very angry, red-faced, shouting coach.

"What?" Korra hissed, as fire balled itself into her chest. "No way."

Asami looked at Korra in surprise. Tenzin looked at Korra very seriously. He was about to say something, when all of a sudden a commotion from the trainer's tent rose up, and gap in the crowd appeared, revealing that Mako was trying to stand.

"Mako!" Asami cried out, and their team suddenly converged on him, while Asami tried to call for space. He looked beyond furious. Korra longed to run to him, to make sure he was okay, but Asami already had her arms around him.

Korra forced herself to turn away. "What happened, Tenzin?" she demanded.

"Korra," he began, cautiously**, **like he saw a caged and wounded animal, coiled and prepared to strike—_to lash out_. "Until the board can complete their investigation, their athletic standings have been suspended."

Her head gave a brutal, frustrated shake. "What does that _mean_?"

"Korra," he repeated, more softly. "It means that they've been disqualified."

Something seized Korra's wind tunnel, clamping it shut. _What?_

"What?"

"Both Mako and Tahno have been disqualified from the race—" _Disqualified_. "—but from the looks of things, Tahno may very well be prohibited from completing the season."

_Disqualified._

"Unfortunately, that's the price of cheating," Tenzin said, in his old, tired voice. "With that kind of foul play, he'll be lucky if they even consider allowing him to return for either of the track seasons."

Disqualified.

Something yanked on her gut, and pulled.

"But—_but what about_—they _can't_ just—"

Seeing her distress, he placed a fatherly hand on her shoulder. "Korra," he tried to soothe. "Everything is just speculation until they complete the investigation."

She didn't want to _hear _about an investigation. She wanted to tear shit apart. She wanted _blood_. Korra turned her accusing eyes on her guardian, a few choice words carved into her tongue—

But his look was understanding, and _she_ was no more; she was five-year-old Korra, tucked beneath the covers while her uncle assured her that the storm would pass, and told her stories of the wind; she was small and fearless and fragile, and he was the only one who knew how to put the bandages on properly; she was twelve-year-old Korra, bored and restless, and he was patient and kind and more like Grandpa Aang than he would probably ever know; she was seventeen-year-old Korra, lost and angry and confused, exiled from her own life, and unable to think of anything else; he was the one who gave her a home and a family... just for the meantime.

Korra's lip trembled, and her shoulders sagged under the weight of the world.

"How did this happen?" she whispered. _To him?_

"Korra... I know he's a friend of yours, but I need you to trust me on this. Until the board examines the evidence and makes a final decision, there's nothing we can do."

_But... _she looked up at him, hoping for guidance. _What's __he_ _supposed to do?_

There was nothing more to say, and even though she appreciated his presence, he had many responsibilities calling after him—most of them, literally. "Excuse me, Korra," he apologized. "We'll discuss this more in-depth soon, all right?" Korra merely nodded.

It was only after Tenzin had jogged his way to the medical tent that she saw who'd been standing not far behind.

"Bolin," she breathed.

She could tell that things were moving all around them—visitors trying to get a closer look at the spectacle, other athletes cooling down after a race that nobody won, people shifting and milling about—but they just stood there, silently, not quite able to look each other in the eye. Korra's mouth ran dry and a voice filled her whole head, ringing in her ears. It was Mako's.

_He knows_.

Korra licked her lips, but to no avail. "Bolin," she began, but had nothing to say.

"Well... I can't say I'm surprised this time," he said, voice surprisingly soft. The sound of it raised goosebumps along Korra's arms.

"Bolin—"

"Don't worry," he offered up a sad, self-depreciative smile. "Your secrets are safe with me."

"But that's not what_—Bolin,_ I..."

"I get it," he shrugged, face turning grim. He was already walking away. "But hey... At least, this way you won't have to worry about dating a teammate, right?"

It wasn't until he was completely gone that she realized she was crying.

* * *

_He'll do whatever it takes. _

_I usually get what I want. _

_Now don't mess with this guy, he's a nasty dude._

_A bona fide manslut._

"God," Korra whispered, to no one. "I am _so_... so stupid."

"Korra?" came a feminine voice from behind her. Hastily, Korra wiped the stray tears away. "There you are! Oh... Korra, are you okay?"

She sniffed, trying to surreptitiously pretend like she hadn't just started crying for no good reason in the middle of a high school cross-country meet. "Yeah. Yeah, no, I'm totally fine. Is..." _God, not now! _"Is Mako okay?"

"Forget Mako for a minute," Asami quietly exclaimed, taking hold of the girl's shoulders. _Crap. No, stop, no, no, no. _"What happened to _you_? Korra... what's wrong?"

"I don't... I don't even..."

She hadn't cried since the night her parents had announced that they were shipping her away.

Korra knew it was a terrible idea, but she couldn't help it; as Asami took her by the hand and gently guided her away—away from the mess, the shouting, the endless crowds of people—Korra looked up to where she knew Tahno should have been.

Except... he was already gone.

* * *

**End Note: **(This chapter took so long to write, oh my god. :P )

Please, please, **please review**! :)


	11. four point two five

**Disclaimer:**I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.  
**Word Count: **4,556  
**Author's Notes: **_4/15/13. _Over the next few chapters, I'm going to try and bring back the choppier, faster-paced flow to this story, which is what I'd originally intended. **4.0 **was a huge moment and it deserved the length that it was given, but now it's time to get back into the swing of things—especially since we're nearing the end. ;) Thus, as we creep closer to the final weekend, **5.0**, I'm going to be posting shorter chapters. (Hopefully this will make the updates more frequent, too!)

**IF YOU HAVE NOT YET READ 4.1, THE TAHNO-POV COMPANION ONE-SHOT, PLEASE READ IT NOW. **Having read it is not necessary to understand the upcoming chapters, but it will help give you an even deeper understanding of the events to come. And hey, it's Tahno's perspective after the race, so WHY THE HELL NOT. You can find it on my FFNET profile!

**Musical Inspiration: **"**A Drop in the Ocean**" by Ron Pope. This song usually hits me pretty hard in the Delena feels (for those of you who watch TVD, you know what I mean), but I listened to it a bunch of times while writing this chapter, too. Plus, its lyrics are _perfect_. The reference to rain, weekends, and New England autumn, I mean, _seriously_. (Not to mention the connection to their water elements everywhere, okay, I'll stop now.) Also, "**Up in the Air**" by 30 Seconds to Mars.

**Beta'd **by **ebonyquill**.

* * *

**4.25**

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want anything to eat?"

Korra gently shook her head.

Asami set her own mug of tea down on the low coffee table and carefully arranged her limbs until she was seated on the rug directly across from her sullen teammate. Korra didn't even know it was possible to have a coffee table in one's room, but her captain certainly had the room for it; she felt like she'd entered a different era, rather than just a different part of town.

"Are you sure?" she persisted, wrapping her fingers around the pretty floral design. "I've got Biscottis, you know."

Against her will, a small smile drew warmth from her lips. "No, thanks," she said quietly. "I really appreciate just being here." And it was true... there were plenty of distractions to look at, to keep her mind off things; bleary eyes trailed over the rows of ribbons and trophies and tiaras hung along the walls. She had a separate shelf for her running medals and bibs, too.

"They're _chocolate_ Biscottis."

Korra's eyes narrowed, if only to hide the genuine gratitude she could feel tearing apart her eyes. "Are you trying to tempt me?"

"Only if it's working. C'mon," she pushed the matching mug closer along the glass tabletop. "Your tea's gonna get cold."

With a sigh, Korra lifted her head off of her arms and sat upright, gingerly reaching for the cup. "Mmm," she hummed, feeling the heat burn pleasantly down her throat. "This is good stuff."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she nodded absently, taking another sip. "I'm usually forced to drink really leafy green stuff, but this is nice and sweet. With a little bit of spice. My cousin would really like this, actually."

"Is she a tea fanatic, too?"

"He," Korra corrected, taking another hearty sip. _"Ah,_ hot."

"See?"

"Hmm?"

"I told you that you needed three things: a place to rest, something to drink, and..." Asami reached down under the table, pulled open a small cabinet that she hadn't realized was there, and pulled out a medium-sized container of biscuit-cookies. "Something to eat."

Korra nearly spit her tea back into her mug. "You—you _sneak_," she accused, wiping off her lip with her wrist. "How long have you been hoarding those in there?"

"I snuck them in while you were putting your stuff in the bathroom," Asami said with great satisfaction, offering Korra a mischievous smirk. "I had a feeling we might need them."

Korra shook her head, slowly at first, but soon her head was tossing from side to side, and a low growl of frustration reverberated all the way up the back of her throat. "Oh, _man_," she cried, throwing her hands over her eyes.

"Yikes. Should I have gotten dark chocolate instead?"

She burst out laughing, feeling more than a little hysterical. "Ahhh, god," Korra groaned into her clammy palms. "I don't deserve _any_ of this."

"I don't know what you're talking about, but I can tell you that you're not the one who gets to make that decision tonight," Asami said, authoritatively cracking the protective ring of plastic around the twist-top. "Now eat a cookie."

"Dammit," Korra sighed, more relieved than she'd like to admit. She gladly took one of the long cookies and crunched nosily between bites. "You're going to make a fearsome grandmother one day. Do you usually stow tea biscuits in your bedroom coffee table, or am I just really that special?"

"Actually," she said slowly, playing with the plastic lid in her hands. "I bought them last night after I dropped you off. I figured it couldn't hurt to have them around."

Korra's chewing slowed, and then stopped completely. The cookie crumbs were melting in her mouth, but she couldn't bring herself to swallow. "You did? For... me?"

She nodded nonchalantly, taking another delicate of her pretty-tasting tea. "I mean, I didn't think I'd be able to offer them so soon—or need to provide them for such an emergency situation, but I wanted to have them on hand, and well, you know how things... were. With our eating plan and all." After an awkward beat, Asami laughed, looking just as uneasy and bewildered as Korra felt. _I should tell her_, she thought suddenly. _I should tell her about— _"Mako was the one who asked about you, you know."

"What?"

"I was so caught up in what was happening at the medical station that I didn't realize you weren't still beside me until he pointed it out," she admitted guiltily. "I'd just assumed that you'd followed. And then Bolin said that he'd seen you head off in the direction of the pavilion and I remembered that you weren't feeling well, and... Yeah. I went to go look for you."

Korra swallowed, processing. "How... how is he doing?"

Asami heaved a tired sigh. "He'll live."

Korra nodded half-heartedly, remembering the guilt she'd felt for not being able to get to him in the medical tent. But now... n0w she didn't think she could face _any_ of them—not Mako, and especially not Bolin, not yet; her cellphone was shoved into the pocket of her jeans, the ringer volume turned up high, but it was glaringly silent. She swallowed and asked, "Will it be okay at practice on Monday?"

She scoffed out a breath of laughter. "That's a harder question to answer. He's mad as hell—and with the way people are probably hovering over him, I can guarantee you that he won't be cooling off anytime soon. I just hope he can get his act together before the weekend's over... He's still way too fired up to really think straight. And I'm just grateful they got him out of there before he did anything stupid. But don't worry," Asami said quickly, noting the deepening crease between Korra's brow. "It'll work out... somehow."

"Do you think he did it?" she whispered suddenly.

Asami blinked. "Who?" she asked. "Tahno?"

Korra's heart skipped.

"I just can't believe that he would do something like that," she argued immediately—half-defense, half-appeal—though Asami had yet to put up any opposition. "I mean, _why_ would he cheat? This meant so much to him—to—to all of us, you know? He didn't _need _to cheat."

"Even I won't pretend to understand how deep that animosity goes," Asami sighed. "But I know he and Mako have been neck-and-neck from the beginning of time."

"I just feel like there's some missing piece or something," Korra said softly, in something akin to a plea. "I mean... what really happened on that course? It can't have been just the two of them. I _refuse_ to believe that he'd do something that stupid. I mean. He wouldn't."

(_Would he?_)

"Well, whatever happened, it's certainly left us with a giant mess." Asami dropped her chin onto her knees, absently running her fingers through the threads of the rug. "Our team carried us through to Regionals, thankfully, but it will still be a few days before we know any of the other side effects."

"Do you think Mako will be allowed to compete?"

Asami considered this for a moment. "Yes," she replied carefully. "Tenzin managed to remove him from the situation before he did anything... rash. But even if he hadn't, Mako would still have a whole other year to let things blow over before college. You know, somehow..."

"What?" Korra demanded, noticing her pause. "What is it?"

Asami looked up, guiltily. "I hate to sound like a traitor, but... somehow I don't feel like Mako was really the one who got the worst end of this deal."

"You... you think that?"

"Tahno's a senior. He's had all these eyes on him for years, just waiting for this moment to scoop him up, and... well, now look at him," she shrugged, as a lump welled in Korra's throat. "Who's going to want anything to do with a suspended athlete notorious for cheating? I mean, there'll be an investigation, obviously, so there's still a good chance that he might scrape by, but... not all colleges are going to want that kind of controversy tainting their records. Some might, but... not all."

Korra covered her eyes and tried not to think of her cellphone, heavy in her pocket. _Not a single message all day_, her mind whispered. She wanted to text him, but what could she say? Would he even want her to? "This is so messed up," she announced into her hands.

Asami regarded her very carefully. "This is really getting to you, isn't it?"

Korra looked up, confused.

"I mean—it's all awful, but I didn't necessarily mean it as a bad thing, or... I just—look, as terrible as it sounds, it's... nice to see how attached you've gotten. That all of this could mean that much to you. I guess I'm just surprised."

She blinked, stunned.

"Here. I know exactly what else you need."

* * *

"_Holy _mother of—"

"Yep," Asami muttered decidedly, quickly snatching the foam roller out from underneath Korra's calf. "Definitely going to need a lower density roller for those legs. Try this one instead."

Korra hissed in pain as her hamstring rolled over the new styrofoam cylinder-stick on the hardwood floor; there was a lush rug beneath her fingertips and it was kept pristinely white, but it was hardly like she could muster the proper level of appreciation.

"This is insane."

"Oh, we know," Asami smiled down, inspecting her teammate's movements; Korra had always suspected a bit of sadistic streak in her captain, but she could never have foreseen this. "Of course, we'd be even more insane not to."

Korra grunted, preparing to respond. Her arms were shaking from balancing her upper body weight on her wrists, and both legs were stretched out across the strange athletic tool, with one toe hooked over the other so that her full weight was placed onto her flexed right calf muscle... precisely at the point where it met the foam roller. _What the—_

"This is supposed to be _helping_?"

"It's one of the best ways for us to get some really deep tissue penetration."

"Ugh," Korra groaned, dropping to the floor. "And I thought _stretching _was bad!"

"Well," she smirked. "Sometimes stretching isn't enough. Keep going."

"Ugh. Dude, if someone had told me two months ago that this was going to become a part of my typical routine, I would have punched them in the face."

"With the foam roller?"

She blinked. "It wasn't a part of the original fantasy, but it's more than—_ah! _Ah_..._appropriate. This thing could probably swipe a head clean off somebody's shoulders if—" A hiss. "Ouch... if aimed the right way."

"Okay," Asami laughed. "Now you're _definitely _exaggerating."

_Am I? _Korra wondered, as agonizing awareness of the tightness in her calf overtook all capability of speech. She certainly didn't feel like she was exaggerating. In fact, she was _not_-exaggerating so much—she wasn't ever going to complain about Tenzin's stretching routine again.

Well.

_Okay, maybe not that much._

"You're _really_ feeling this, aren't you?"

Korra merely gurgled.

"What other kinds of stretches do you normally do?" She stiffened, offering Asami a sheepish grin. "Korra! No wonder! If you only stretch after meets, you're practically begging for injury! You need to help your muscles recover—after _every _practice!"

"Man," Korra sighed. "That's what everyone keeps telling me."

"And you haven't listened because...?"

"I just don't—_do_—stretching stuff, you know? It's just so... boring."

"Korra. I know it's not always as—as exciting as the running itself, but your flexibility is just as important as your strength. And besides, stretching is such a nice way to wind down, and to just let go all of this tension—what's so funny?"

"Oh, sorry," she muttered, dropping herself onto the floor. She covered her eyes with her hands, feeling slightly delirious. "It's just that you sound _so _much like Tenzin right now. Really, you have no idea." When the silence stretched on for just a fraction too long, Korra glanced up. Asami was still looking down at her, curiously.

_Oh, shit._

"You know," Asami quietly began. "I've been meaning to ask you about something."

* * *

It was only a mere five minutes later, but Korra was waiting with bated breath.

(She should have seen this coming.)

"So?" Korra prompted, trying not to sound as anxious as she felt.

"Hmm," she hummed. "I thought so."

"You... You _knew _that I was living with Tenzin's family?"

"I suspected," Asami corrected. "I mean, I did drive you home yesterday, after all."

_Oh_, Korra thought, feeling foolish. _Duh. _"Why didn't you say anything?" she demanded.

Asami blinked. "I didn't think you wanted me to. You didn't bring it up yourself and, well... you seem like a pretty private person."

_Am I? _She'd always felt the opposite; someone who wore her heart on her sleeve, whether she liked it or not.

"Well, I obviously don't know you that well_, _but... If you don't mind me saying so, although you _are_very outgoing and forthright, well... I guess I just... felt like there was always some guard around you that we just couldn't break through. I can't speak for any of the others, but I know I've felt that there was a distance between us." Asami bit her lip. "Do you know what I mean?

Unfortunately, Korra knew exactly what she meant.

"Asami," she sighed, setting the foam roller aside and dropping her elbows onto her knees. "I think... I should explain. The truth is..."

_The truth is that I suck at talking to people when it counts. Give me a megaphone to pump up a crowd—set! Show me somebody in trouble who needs a defender—done! Ask me to offer a decent apology to someone I've wronged?_

_Ugh._

"The truth is...?"

"I didn't just peg you wrong," she admitted quietly. "I kind of... dug you a hole and buried you there. And layered cement on top. Glittery, sparkly cement. I think it was pink, and had marbles lodged inside, but then we drank tea and ate Biscottis-"

"Um. Okay," Asami said uncertainly. "I... think I know where you're going with this. I mean, I got the whole burying me into my own stereotype analogy—at least until the marbles came in."

"Argh!" Korra groaned, collapsing back onto the rug. "I'm not making any sense," she complained into her hands.

"No," Asami agreed, nodding slightly. "But lucky for you, I'm pretty good at reading between the lines... as squiggly as they are."

"Seriously," came her muffled reply. "You can feel free to kick me out anytime now."

"Honestly, I think I'm mostly confused about the glitter."

"Oh, _god_," Korra laughed to herself, which trailed off into a groan. "I shouldn't be allowed to talk."

"Really, Korra," Asami said sincerely. "I get it. And... I don't blame you for it. I really do try to monitor how I come across, especially with new people, but. Well. People have told me that I can be a little... intense."

"Funny," Korra muttered from the floor, with a touch of awe. "That's usually what people say about me."

Asami merely shrugged, allowing a small smile. "I guess our differences aren't really so different, after all."

It made sense. It made _so_much sense—and not only because Korra wanted to believe it did—but... it made sense because _they_—together, as friends—made sense, or at least, were starting to... but there was still so many more questions that Korra couldn't answer.

(It was now or never.)

"Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked quietly. It only occurred to her then that Asami was still up while she was down; she hadn't even noticed the imbalance.

"Honestly?" It took Asami a moment to answer. "I guess it's because... I guess I feel like I know what it's like to have to work a little bit harder to fit in and... maybe how it feels to have to sort through all the people to find the ones you can trust." A great warmth surged in Korra's chest; she was made really happy by this admission... but also hugely guilty.

"How do you figure out if a person is someone you can trust?" she asked, with more curiosity than she thought was appropriate.

"I don't know," Asami laughed lightly, and to Korra's dismay, it held a bitterness that she'd never heard before from her captain. Again, she realized just how little she knew about the others on her team. "For all of my annoyance over people making assumptions about me, I'm not really the best judge of character either... I guess I've just been pretty lucky so far."

Korra swallowed hard.

"Asami," she began unsteadily. "As long as we're... as long as we're talking about all this stuff, I think there's something else I should tell you. Well. A couple of things, actually."

"Shoot!"

"Um, okay," Korra swallowed uneasily. "Well, first, let me just say—"

"Ahh, no, no, sorry," Asami exclaimed hastily, quickly rising to her feet. Korra blinked. "I just realized that I never responded to Mako's texts! Oh my god, sorry, hold on just a second—ugh, dammit," she muttered, nursing her stubbed toe as she hopped on one foot back to the rug, her phone in her other hand. Korra had never seen her so graceless. "Damn," she hissed, staring into the screen.

Korra waited patiently, but silence reigned. "Um. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," she muttered distractedly, then snapped the phone shut. "No, you know what? No. Ugh, I don't know." Asami tapped the phone awake and peeked at her message once more. "I guess so," she replied, less certainly.

Korra's heart was still pounding from being on the brink of her near-confession, but curiosity killed the Korra, _so_. "What's happening?"

Asami glanced up to her teammate, deliberating; Korra tried not to fidget, reeled in her absurd eagerness, and apparently passed whatever test Asami might have been administering. She closed the phone and clutched it tightly in their hands. "I don't know if you heard or not, but Mako and I have been nominated for Homecoming King and Queen."

A queasy feeling swirled through Korra's gut. "Oh," she nodded absently. "Yeah. Right, I... I hadn't heard. Well," she swallowed, too unsure of what to think anymore. "That's good. For you both, I mean. Right?"

"Yeah," she quietly replied, still twirling the phone in her hands.

"So," Korra nodded, feeling a solid, heavy weight take up residence in her chest; the rest of her limbs felt light, like the rest of her could float away, and leave her heart behind. "I don't really know how I'm supposed to respond to these things," she admitted. She didn't want to think about the last time she'd found out someone had been one of these supposed Homecoming royalties, and what _his _reaction had been. She swallowed. "So do I congratulate you, or something?"

Asami laughed a quiet, gentle laugh. Korra felt silly—until the laugh turned broken and tired, and then Asami was suddenly lying right next to her on the rug, their bent knees nearly touching as she tried to regain her sense. Korra was more confused than ever. "Oh, god," she whispered, slightly crazed, and a little sad. "I'm sorry, Korra. I bet this makes even less sense to you than before."

"Well," Korra began, not entirely capable of arguing. "It's not—"

"I want to break up with Mako," Asami confessed, staring straight into the ceiling. "That's the problem."

It was a good thing that Korra was already on the ground because she was _floored._

"Wha—_what_?"

"Oh, _god_," Asami stretched, shutting her eyes tight. "I have been waiting to say it for _so _long... I just couldn't admit it out loud. Ah," she sighed, relaxing the tension in her muscles. "I knew I shouldn't have let myself fall into a relationship so easily... And by the time I realized that it wasn't working out anymore, I already felt like I was in too deep—there just weren't any openings for me to end it," she explained, while Korra's mind went _alkdf;iasfpoiajsf;ksfos. _"Because we were both captains and we had to get the team started off on the right foot, and then there was the opening meet and he needed my support, and then I just needed someone to lean on with all the shit that I've been going through with my dad lately, and now _this _with the meet and the suspension and this stupid _Homecoming _court business, and... I don't know how I'm ever going to find a not-terrible time to break up with him like a decent person should." She sighed again, while Korra watched on incredulously. "God," she laughed suddenly, looking just as delirious as Korra felt. "This week is gonna be a mess."

"I... don't even know where to start."

"Oh," Asami sighed a laugh, cracking open the lid for another biscotti. She held it open for Korra to take one as well. "Don't worry; I've had more than my fair share. It's totally your turn to vent, if you're still feeling up to it."

"I'm not sure..."

"Ahh, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to pry. You don't have to feel pressured to share anything you don't—"

"Look—IreallylikeTahnoandIthinkwemightbemeantforea chother."

* * *

"I... haven't actually said that out loud before."

* * *

"Okay," Asami said very slowly, carefully straightening herself to an upright position. Mystified, Korra followed suit. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"No. Not yet," she said quickly, rubbing a fingertip to the corner of her mouth in thought. "I'm... Could you repeat that?"

To her horror, Korra blushed. "I'd really rather not."

"Oh, god—you _do _like him!"

"Forget I said anything!" she begged, but Asami's eyes were alight with discovery.

"Just look at you—you totally _do_! But how_—_and when did you—all right, _explain_."

"Do I have to?" she whined.

"Yes," Asami smiled deviously, handing Korra a pillow. Morosely, she clung to it in her lap. "Now go. Wait!" The cookie jar returned, and was set directly between the two of them on the floor. _"Now_ go."

* * *

"So let me get this straight."

(The Biscottis were long gone.)

"You've been meeting up with Tahno—the bane-of-our-existence, would-be King of the arch rivals that continue to best us at everything under the sun—at least once every week for the past... for the past _how _many weeks?"

Korra continued to hide under the pillow Asami had provided for her, smooshing her face into the floor. "Four. I think."

"And then, two days ago, you also went on a really amazing, romantic—"

"Never, ever did I _ever_ say the word _romantic_, Asami!"

"—run with him through White Falls, and then _you went over to his house_ and _he made you dinner_?"

"I went to his apartment because it was _closer _and it was raining and he made _himself _dinner and then threatened to kick me out if I didn't try some and _will you stop looking at me like that?"_

"You are so fucking precious, I think I might die."

"_Asami, you are not helping!"_

"Right, right, sorry," but she didn't look very sorry at all. "It's just that—oh, god, this is _so_ great! This is wonderful."

"I don't understand."

"Don't you see? Oh, god, this totally explains why you looked so upset when I dropped you off at your house—I should have known better than to run my big mouth—"

"But—but isn't all that you said true?" Korra sputtered. "I mean, even you said that you didn't throw around those labels casually, but that... that _his records—_"

"I didn't know about any of _this_!" Asami exclaimed, as if this somehow made a difference. "Tahno is a total player—er, sorry—but I promise you: he's not the kind to actually put in any real effort for a girl; they usually come flocking to him."

"Not helping," she reminded her dryly.

"No, no, no, don't you get it? He's totally into you!" Korra blinked, feeling her stomach churn. "And—oh, man—this totally explains why those Wolverine chicks were glaring at you so badly today!"

"What do you mean?" she asked, still feeling queasy. "There's no way they could have known."

"Yes, but it's totally _obvious _that they've lost their rank in his priority list; they're usually all over him during races, even the big ones."

"But," Korra protested, clinging to every defense she could muster. "This was such an important race. There's no way they could have expected to... to _whatever_, and there's no way that they've associated... _whatever _with me!"

"Korra, if they remembered you from the first race of the season when you insulted Tahno's hair—which is still fucking hilarious, by the way—then it _means _something; they're very territorial girls, and whether or not they truly have any idea what's going on, which—I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say, _they don't—_they're still gonna be super-protective over their claim and stare down any girl who comes within range—_especially_ one who had the balls to call him out on his shit before."

"Do you always swear this much?"

"Do _not _change the subject, Korra! I'm excited because I am _onto _something."

"You are _on _something, all right."

"It's called female intuition!"

"I don't care what it's called, it's freaking me out!"

"Korra, trust me," Asami pleaded, taking hold of Korra's wrist; she looked down at uncertainly, and clung to the pillow more tightly with her other hand. "I told you—reading between the squiggly lines is sort of my thing."

She swallowed; Korra had plenty of scribbles to sort through, and she really hoped that Asami wouldn't be able to see through all of them—at least, not before she got them sorted out herself. (During her retelling of the last month or so, Korra had at no point mentioned ever having worn Tahno's clothes, or undressing in his bathroom to change into them.)

"But it still doesn't change what you said about Tahno being a player," Korra insisted, throat tight. "Even if he hasn't shown these girls attention or whatever, and even if his behavior towards me _is _unusual, it doesn't make up for the fact that _you_ admitted to me in the car the day before yesterday that he couldn't be trusted."

"That was _before _I knew about all of this!" Asami repeated desperately. "Seriously, I know you don't really know from firsthand experience because you only just got here, but trust me, this is huge."

(She didn't dare hope.)

"Look, I'm not gonna lie: everything that I said was true, and I really do think that he's a bit rougher around the edges in some ways, and—hey, you know, his personal records are a little shady, but the _point _is... I think he's coming around. For you, I mean."

Korra bit her lip, trying to school her expression. (Her cell phone _burned_ in her pocket.)

"So now what?" she whispered raggedly. "I mean... Asami, I _know _he didn't attack Mako in the woods today."

And it was here that Asami paused.

"Do you?" she asked.

(Korra swallowed.)

"Of course."

"Korra, look," Asami sighed. "I don't mean to play Devil's Advocate, but... Have you at least thought about the possibility? I mean, this is a very high-pressure—"

"Trust me," she said, defiance in her tone, and a gentle firmness as she took the other girl's hand in hers. "I may not know a whole lot about much of anything... but I know this."

Asami looked at her then, down at their hands held together, and gave a gentle squeeze.

* * *

**End Note: **I, for one, am immensely enjoying the dramatic irony provided by **4.1**. I hope this was a nice change of pace from all the soul-crunching drama that took place last chapter... and that it will prepare you for the nonsense in the week to come.

(THE DRAMA ISN'T OVER YET, FOLKS.)


	12. four point four

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.  
**Word Count: **4,937  
**Author's Notes: **_5/1/13. _This isn't necessarily a filler chapter, per se, but it _does_ help lead us to our next set of events; after all, you have to untangle at least a few knots before you can screw 'em all up again. :P Also: I hadn't planned on posting this until after Tahno Week because I was afraid that people would be so bombarded with awesome Tahno material that they'd be less likely to leave feedback... :/ Please don't make me regret posting it sooner!

And again: to get the full impact of this story's events, read the Tahno-POV companion fic, **4.1**!

**Musical Inspiration: **"A Drop in the Ocean" by Ron Pope, because I'm still obsessed, and"Mirror" by Kat Dahlia. Thank you for the rec, **likeabirdinflight**!

**Beta'd **by **ebonyquill**.

* * *

**4.4**

* * *

_"_Hey_," _she greeted, voice quiet.

There was a pause as a voice sounded from the receiver.

"Hey, so—stupid question, but..." Korra swallowed, clutching the cell phone in her hand, standing at the window; the Sunday morning looked cold outside, with the bare branches floating in the blowing winds.

"Would you go for a run with me?" she asked.

* * *

"Thanks," she said abruptly, when she had him trappedat a stoplight. "For meeting me, I mean."

Bolin sent her a wary sidelong glance. "Uhh, sure," he said casually, returning his gaze to the red light.

"I mean it though," Korra tried again, feeling helpless; she knew what she needed to say, but she didn't know how to bridge the gap between _hi! _and _oh my god, I'm a terrible person and I suck, so please forgive me._

"Yeah," he assured her half-heartedly. "No problem."

It was another half a mile before Korra started to grow well and truly anxious. Their running companionship had never been known for silence, and the space between them was so filled with distant car engines and gentle autumn breezes that it might as well have been a mile wide. As she was wracking her brain, feeling close to her wits' end, he asked, "You wanna head in the direction of the arboretum?"

"What?" she started. "No!"

Bolin blinked. "Um, okay. So that's a solid _negative _on the trees."

"No—I mean, it's not—sorry," she said hastily, suddenly much more out of breath than she should have been. "I, uhh... I've never really liked it there very much."

"You got something against the woods?"

Korra frowned, feeling her chest burn.

Softly, she admitted, "No... It's just a little too close to home."

* * *

"Well, that should about do it for the day," he said rather decisively, glancing about the mostly empty playground. Most people had the good sense to wait for a warmer day—or maybe even snow. "Any more than that and Coach Tenzin will have our heads."

Panic seized her.

"Wait! But it's—it's such a nice day!"

Bolin looked at her like she was crazy; she _felt _crazy. "How about we stop and stretch here? On the grass?"

"Do my ears deceive me?" Bolin teased, smiling in spite of himself. "Miss Korra of the Wild, willingly subjecting herself to the tedious task of stretching?"

"Pffft," Korra immediately dismissed, gracelessly plopping to the ground. _Ah! Cold! _"After what Asami did to me yesterday with her foam rollers, this should be cake."

He didn't look convinced, but with a sigh, he settled himself on the ground next to her. "Well?" he looked at her expectantly.

_Oh! _Korra's mind twitched. _Right! Oh my god, how do I start? What do I say? What did I ask him to come out here with me for? What the hell was I thinking! _"Well, what?"

"What do you need to stretch?"

"Oh," she breathed. "I'll just, uh... I'll just follow you. You're kind of the expert on these things."

Bolin scoffed under his breath, slowly curling into a hamstring stretch. Korra still couldn't believe someone so stocky and well-built could bend that way; both of his hands were gripping the sole of his outstretched foot, and he made it look easy. "Yeah," he sighed. "Sure thing."

She didn't like where this was going—where this was _not _going—at all.

_Just say it._

Suddenly, Korra grew inexplicably and undeniably angry. Back in the beginning—back before she knew about the world of cross-country, or teenager dynamics, or the infuriating world of high school—she had always complained about people being too complicated with their thoughts and feelings; she didn't _understand _why someone would choose not to be open and forthright about their opinions, or how they felt, or what they wanted. In Korra's (_old_) world, life had been direct, audacious; the truth didn't always bring about _honesty, _because it just _was_, because things were the way they were, and people felt the way they felt, and _you gotta deal with it. _And for as much as Korra hated the burdensbrought down on her for holding true to that belief, the walls she rammed into, the barriers that blocked and the heads that butted, there was a fearlessness in that belief, at her core, that made her who she was. It made her Korra, and it made her strong.

(Or so she'd thought.)

Because then she'd been picked up and transplanted, shoved into a world she'd never wanted to enter in the first place, expected to adapt and learn and _change_, and Korra had never felt more out of her element. She'd always known who she was, but who _was_that, who was she really? For the first time in her life, she'd been surrounded by people—people her age—and suddenly, she didn't know. All her life she'd been told that she needed to learn when_not _to open her mouth, and now... Now she couldn't seem to find the words, let alone get them out. They got jumbled and garbled and lost in the mass of emotion swirling in her gut, drowning in the fear of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, _again, again, again_. The anger redoubled. They wanted her to find _balance _they said; to find a way to work with others, to be a leader, they said; to find a way to reconcile her true self with the self that she was expected to be—

But how did anyone expect her to find a balance when they weren't even going to let her?

"I have a tent," she blurted.

Bolin paused, stunned. "Um. That's nice?"

Korra shook her head, gently, staring sadly into the grass under her bent legs. Her hands rested limply over her knees. "It _is_a nice tent," she laughed under her breath, feeling tired. "It was the first one I ever had of my own, just for me. It was a present from my dad, right before our first father-daughter duo trip into the mountains. We still shared his tent for a few years after that, of course, when it was just the two of us," she added as an afterthought, with a touch of a smile. "It didn't make sense to waste pack space. But having a tent of my own meant that I was finally old enough to handle sleeping alone, and that he recognized that. Whenever we went out in packs, it was mine." Korra swallowed, then, glancing at Bolin. "It meant a lot to me."

He was confused, which was understandable. (But he also looked sorry for her, which didn't make any sense at all.)

"People were always complaining that I was too headstrong as a kid, that my parents let me run wild... And maybe they did," she laughed. "I don't know. I never had much of a chance to compare it to anyone else's childhood. All I knew was that this tent was the first time my parents showed _me _that they trusted me with true independence. They never said it in so many words, but they told me then, that they knew I could take care of myself." Korra sighed, long and deep. "I'm sorry, Bolin."

He blinked. "For what?"

"I've changed a lot since I got here," Korra admitted, meeting his gaze. "And I don't always think it's for the better."

"Yeah, well," Bolin scoffed a laugh, trying to keep it light. "High school can do that to people."

Korra smiled, but it was _too soon_. She still had things she needed to say. "I think one of the things I've forgotten about the person I was before is how to be honest with people," Korra frowned. "I'd always been _too _open before, and it got me and my family into trouble. When I got here, I was stubborn. I was mostly determined to prove to my parents that they couldn't cage me, that I could handle the challenge and still come out myself—at least until they gave up and dragged me back home... And then I got here, and—I didn't even realize it until after it'd happened—but I got caught up. I... I got scared, I guess. I was suddenly stressing about a lot of stuff that would never have fazed me back home, and before I knew it, I'd gone and started to become exactly what people back home had told me to become, only not. Instead of learning _more _and finding a balance... I mostly just forgot how to be myself, I think."

He took this in. "So... now what?"

She looked him very seriously in the eye. "Bolin, I'm sorry I hurt your feelings," she said sincerely. "I didn't meant to let things get so out of hand."

He blinked, then turned to the swing set ahead, looking rather uncomfortable. Korra let her gaze drop to the ground with a sigh, and waited. The wind seemed to slip right through the fabric of her jacket, but she thought that maybe she deserved the cold. (And in a weird way, it was comforting; it reminded her of the familiar winter, which would be arriving soon. Maybe then things wouldn't feel so strange.)

"Swing with me?" he asked, nodding to the empty seat a few meters away. Korra blinked.

"Sure," she agreed.

* * *

"I'm not gonna say anything to anyone, you know," he told her, toes dragging along the wood chips. "I wasn't lying."

"Bolin," she groaned. "That's what I—I mean, thank you, but... That's not what I care about right now."

"Look, I don't know what's going on between you and my brother—"

"Bolin," Korra cut him off, trying to seep every ounce of genuine feeling she had into her words. "Nothing is actually going on between Mako and I... I was really confused about how I felt about him, but it doesn't matter anymore. Asami and I are friends now... But even if we weren't—it wouldn't change anything." _I realize that now_. _Not because she and I have gotten closer, and not because I just learned that she's been waiting for the right moment to break up with him, anyway... _

But because there was more to it than that.

(And maybe she'd finally realized it.)

"Really?"

"Yeah," she said with a thoughtful nod. "Yeah, really. And I _do _still like him, but... there are too many complications. You know?"

Bolin blew a raspberry. "Preachin' to the choir, sister."

Korra's face twisted. "What?"

He laughed, light and real and _Bolin. _"Never mind. It's an expression, though admittedly not a very funny one. I was just saying, 'tell me something I _don't _know'... actually," he paused, twisting his swing towards hers. "As long as we're on that note..."

She watched him warily.

"So... you and the Wolverine King, huh?"

* * *

Somewhere, deep inside of Korra's brain, welled a tiny ball of _panic_.

* * *

"Hey, hey, _hey_! Calm down! I haven't even said anything yet!"

"It's not what you think, Bolin," she snapped.

"And what is it that you _think _I think?" he quipped. His legs gave a ferocious pump, and soon his speed greatly outmatched hers. Korra kicked herself into gear.

"I know what a _Fox _would think," she scowled.

"Well, I've never really been one for the rivalry, anyway," he said, shrugging against the chains. "Too much bad karma."

Korra stared at him in awe. _Is he being serious? _

"_What?_But what about everything you said at the first meet?" she demanded. "About White Falls being a school that pays people off instead of using its own merit?"

"Still true."

"And what about—what about him being a _nasty dude_?"

"Still true."

"Bolin, I'm not sure what _I'm _supposed to think anymore."

"Let me put it this way," he smirked, and it occurred to Korra—_he's playing with me! _So much for bad karma. "Despite what I said yesterday about not being surprised, well... surprise doesn't quite cover it," he said thoughtfully, looking out over the playground as he glided back and forth, a bouncing pendulum on a child's toy. "I was pretty upset."

Korra's heart squeezed. "Bolin, I'm—"

"Let me finish," he insisted, staring a the swirly slide. "And you knew it, too. I was upset because I liked you, and I suspected that you had feelings for my brother," he said quietly, still swinging on. She'd never heard him sound so serious before. "But what you probably didn't know was that I was upset because I thought you deserved better, and I felt like I could be that."

Korra felt like she'd been smacked in the face.

"I was mostly upset with Mako, because he already has an awesome girlfriend... though I don't know how well they're actually doing anymore. Things have seemed rocky ever since before September, even before you came along."

Her stomach sank. "I didn't mean to—"

"I know," he said quickly, assuring her just as much as he was silencing her. "And after Friday night, I thought I understood. I went to the meet feeling slightly off-balance, and even though Mako didn't really tell me much of anything, I felt like I'd been able to piece enough of it all together myself... which was why I don't think I would ever have expected to hear Coach Tenzin call Tahno of the Wolverines a friend of yours," he sighed a scoff. "I mean, when I saw you arguing with Coach, I just assumed it had to do with Mako, and came over... I guess this is what I get for eavesdropping."

Korra frowned, feeling awful but totally lost as to how to make it better. "I know it probably won't make much of a difference, but... I don't think I ever really expected to call him a friend, either."

Bolin looked at her then, and she could see it: beneath the overwhelming layer of disappointment, it was there—curiosity.

"How... in the _world._.. did a girl like you end up becoming friends with a guy like Tahno?"

Korra sighed, squinting away her discomfort. "Are you sure you want to know?"

Bolin took a few moments to consider it, but then merely laughed.

"Why not? I really doubt anything would surprise me anymore."

* * *

They were running again—neither of them could sit still, even swinging in motion as they'd been—and Bolin hadn't said anything for almost a full minute.

"Bolin?" she tried again, ready for a breakdown. (She had a terrible feeling that Bolin was a crier, and though she didn't really think the situation could warrant tears, she still prepared for the worst; Korra was _no _expert in consolation.)

"Hold up," he said suddenly, placing his outstretched hands in front of them while they ran along the path through the park. "Hold _up_."

"Um, should I be stopping, or—"

"I get it!" he exclaimed, still running. "I totally get it now!"

"So, should I not be running anymore? I'm not really sure what—"

"You _like _him," he claimed, swiveling in front of her and taking her by the shoulders. "Ew, oh my god," he jumped back, shaking out his hands as if he'd been burned. Korra blinked back in shock. "Oh my god, you like him! You like Tahno of the—"

She tackled him.

"Will you _please _keep it down?" she hissed, searching the area frantically for any signs of witnesses. There were still by the playground, and she'd thrown him to a soft patch of grass, but someone was bound to see them eventually; she just didn't know how long she'd have to keep him on the ground yet. "I'd really rather not announce that to the world, you know!"

"Owww! Gah!" he cried from within his headlock. His hands tried to wrench her arms apart, but it was no use. "Haven't you hurt me enough, woman?"

Korra frowned and released him, quickly pulling back. Bolin scooted a few inches away, but Korra was alert and ready on her haunches, prepared to pounce: equal parts determination and defiance, and a little bit of _oh god, I'm in so much trouble _on the side.

"Er," Korra looked down at her crouching, defensive stance. She tried to relax. "Sorry."

He gasped out another _ow _and soothed a tender hip. "You know, two days ago, I would have been rejoicing over the fact that you just jumped me."

But Korra didn't really know how to respond to that.

"Man," Bolin sighed, once he'd regained his composure. "You actually like this kid." To her growing dismay, she blushed. _Dammit! _

"I'm really not all that happy about it either," Korra sulked.

Bolin blinked. "Why not?"

She was _flabbergasted_. "Are you kidding me? What's that even supposed to mean—_why not_? What do you _mean _'why not'?"

"It's a legitimate question," he said quietly. "I mean, what's wrong with it?"

_What._

"I mean—_I _think it's gross, but I'm also not the one who has to get with him. If you like the nasty dude, you like the nasty dude—I don't really see how it should bother me, personally."

"But—but—"

"Look, I'm not gonna lie. It _does _kind of weird me out, and I definitely wasn't prepared for it, but so what?"

"But what about the team?"

"Screw 'em."

She stared. "Who _are _you?"

"Korra," he began, shifting his weight onto the elbows over his knees. "The thing you have to know about cross-country is that we're a family," he sagely described. "Not everybody is always going to agree with you, but when it comes down to it, we're there for each other. Even if you don't know every single member on your team, we're all Foxes. That's why I run cross-country every year, even when my wrestling coach thinks I should by hitting the mats instead of the track."

"So... Wait. Let me get this straight. You're... you're okay with this?" she tried to clarify. "You're not mad?"

"Oh, I'm still a little mad," he confirmed with an easy smile. "But not for the reasons you think. I was just pissed that no one told me anything, which you've already addressed. I mean, really... I'll get over you fine, eventually. You're just some girl I met a few weeks ago."

_Ouch. _She probably deserved that.

"An awesome girl, but still just a girl... Who will probably make an awesome friend," he nudged her, while Korra nodded her head along, taking it in stride. "But Mako... He's my brother. Or supposed to be, anyway," he muttered. "_He _could use a few reminders in team dynamics."

Korra's sigh turned sad. "He does really care about you."

"I know," he sighed back.

"_I _really care about you, too." _Even if you might not believe me_. "And I _am _sorry... for your neck, too."

Bolin considered her for a moment, with light eyes and a quirky grin. "Ahh, I'll be all right," he decided eventually, dismissing her concern with a wave. And then: "But... we have fun together, don't we?"

The tone she heard in his voice warmed her heart; things wouldn't be the same, but they would be okay. Eventually.

_Maybe even better_.

"Yeah," she agreed with a smile. "I'd say so."

"Just... next time, do me a favor, all right?"

"What?"

"Just see what happens when you offer someone a little trust. People might surprise you."

Inevitably, warmth surged in her chest. This time when she smiled, she didn't fight it; it seemed like an apology to Tenzin was also in order.

"All right," she softly promised, still feeling warm. And then: "You really are one of a kind, Bolin."

"Ah!" he mock-swooned, fanning himself under the cold autumn sun. "Please, go on. I enjoy praise."

She slugged him instead.

* * *

"By the way, Bolin, I forgot to ask... who's your wrestling coach?"

"Oh, you'd love her. She doesn't really participate anymore, herself, but she's anything but past her prime. It's actually rumored that she's still so strong she can bend metal."

"What? Who is this lady? She sounds just like the kind of woman I'd get along with."

He smirked. "I agree."

"Well, who is it? Have I met her before?"

"Yep," he skipped. "She teaches Chemistry."

"What? Really? Where? At our school—?"

She paused.

He smiled.

"_Son _of a—"

"Beifong!" he chirped boisterously, his bubble of anticipation finally bursting free. "You guessed it."

"Well, I'll be damned," she sighed, laughing under her breath. It seemed she really _was_ overdue for a heart-to-heart with Tenzin. She'd have to snag him for a moment or two when she got home, provided that none of the little monsters had flown him off the deep end. Which reminded her...

"Hey, Bolin," she began, feeling rather surprised by her lack of fear; it seemed that this opening up thing was getting easier. (Or maybe it just felt that way because it was _Bolin._) "As long as we're talking about all this stuff, I'd like to tell you something else about where I'm staying. Where I live now, I mean. Not like with the tent thing—_although, _I mean... I do still have the tent, but it's inside a house, which is what I want to... Hey. What's up?"

She wasn't sure what was more worrying; the uncharacteristic tilt to his brow, or the fact that he'd strayed so far off the path he'd almost fallen into the sandbox. Bolin looked up, totally unfazed by his near-stumble, but instead wholly and completely focused on her. _What...?_

"What's wrong?" she asked warily, fighting a frown.

He didn't respond at first, which didn't help. "It's just... Have you talked to him at all?"

_Oh. _Korra's mouth ran dry. Carefully, she wet her lips, feeling the cold wind scraping along the skin. "Not yet," she admitted quietly.

Bolin nodded, staring straight ahead as they walked along the grass, hands stuffed into the pockets of his dark green hoodie. He was frowning.

"Is that... bad?" she asked.

"Do _you_ think it is?"

Korra suddenly felt queasy. "I don't know what to think. I'm not sure he'd want to talk to anyone... let alone me."

"Why do you say that?"

Korra's feet slowly dragged along the blades of grass, drifting farther away from the playground until they finally came to a halt beneath the large, naked branch of an old oak tree. She kept her eyes on the ground. "I didn't really tell you the whole story," she confessed, looking up, but still away. "We sort of... got into a fight."

Bolin's face was strangely blank, but his eyes were bright with intensity. "When?" he asked.

Shamefully, Korra gave a little shrug. "It started Friday afternoon."

"Started?" Bolin repeated; she could see the mental calculations whirring through his mind. None of them pointed to anything good. "When did it end?"

"It... hasn't, exactly."

"And you don't think he'd want to talk to you?"

"Bolin, what could I even say?" she snapped, feeling angrier with herself than anything else; she honestly didn't know _what_ to think—_and_ _that's the fucking problem!_ "Even if I told him that I don't believe he did it, how is that going to help? It's not gonna change his situation." Korra roughly crossed her arms, fighting off the cold. "I'm not good at this stuff, Bolin."

"What stuff?"

"Talking to people when they're in trouble. Being... tactful or _sensitive_ or whatever."

To her chagrin, Bolin cracked the tiniest slice of a smile. "Oh, yeah?" he nudged, offering her shoulder a gentle poke. "How about you tell me 'bout that tent some more?"

Slowly, Korra's nose began to scrunch. "Will _you... _oh, for the love of—goddamit, Bolin!" she cursed, yanking down the drawstrings of her hood to hide her expression. She wasn't supposed to feel relieved. She wasn't _supposed_ to be laughing. _I am a terrible person_.

"What?" he laughed.

"Do you _always _have to make me feel better?"

"I could start charging, if it'd make you feel better."

"Ugh, _damn you_," she hissed, thrusting her hip to the side, straight into his. This time when he stumbled, it was right back onto the path. "And to think I have to put up with you for another year, _at least_."

"Two, if you count us being seniors," he quipped, dragging her back onto the paved path. Unfortunately, it also brought Korra crashing right back to where she started. _Seniors_, she thought to herself. _Right_.

As they neared the main road, the wind picked up; Korra's hoodie wasn't all that thick, which meant that the chill spiked right into her skin. Bolin's normally-rosy cheeks were growing even rosier, and their breaths became swirling mists of vapor right before her very eyes. It was getting close to noon, but the sky tried its best to prove that it was much later.

"Hey, Bolin?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think... Do you think I should call him?" she asked quietly. "I mean... do you really think he'd want me to?"

There was a pause. As Bolin came to a stop on the sidewalk along one of the side streets near the school, Korra stood still and watched the wind ruffle his wavy hair. She appreciated the way the fabric of his sweatshirt brought out the green of his eyes—so bright in the chill of autumn—and for the slightest fraction of a moment, she wondered what it would have been like if things had turned out a little differently; one of his hands reached up to pull a fallen leaf from the tangled mess of her hair, and Korra briefly wondered if perhaps she was the biggest idiot of them all.

And then it was over before it'd even begun, when Bolin looked off into the distant swing sets and heaved a heavy sigh and said, "I think... the best answer to that question is to ask yourself..."

He hesitated.

"What?" she breathed, leaning closer. "Ask myself what?"

He looked at her then, directly in the eye, and soon she was swimming in green, but she'd yet to feel any better.

"Think about it, Korra. You said that you're fed up with acting on everyone else's expectations, right?"

She swallowed, catching onto where he was going, but not entirely sure if she liked it. "Right..."

"And you're frustrated that people keep telling you that you can't get what you want or do what you think is right because it doesn't match the rules of their game. Right?"

"Well... Right."

"So it's simple," he shrugged, aiming for light, but all Korra felt was a ball of lead in her chest. "You asked me if I thought he'd want you to; I think—in this case?—that's not what it's important."

"Then what—?"

"Korra," he interrupted, staring at her like she was a child, half-smiling like someone who'd just aced a test but was still amusedly leading the classroom dunce to the obvious answer. _He almost looks like he's enjoying this_. And, in a strange way, she bet he was; she wouldn't really hold it against him. Much.

"_What,_ Bolin?"

But he merely laughed and set a warm hand on her shoulder, before giving a gentle push.

And then he started to run.

"Hey—!"

"Think, Korra," he called back with an easy smile, as she strove to catch up. "Stop asking what you think _he'd_ want you to do, and answer me this.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"What do _you _want to do?"

.

.

.

.

.

.

When she got home just a little after noon, Korra greeted her family at the door, and was told to go wash up; they were having her favorite dish for a late lunch within the hour and Meelo wasn't going to be making any exceptions. Korra changed clothes and washed her face, replaying Bolin's words over and over in her mind. _What is he doing, right now? _she wondered, glancing at her phone on the bathroom's marble countertop. _Is he even awake yet_?

Her hands shook as she reached for the phone. She moved so quickly—so as not to lose her nerve—that she nearly forgot to dry her face first with a towel, and absently blotted away the drops of water as her fingers punched the dials. Her hands were still moving, robotically, along the trails of wetness dripping down her neck, when the first ring sounded into her ear.

She called him twice.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

He didn't pick up.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


	13. four point four five

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.  
**Word Count: **7,412  
**Author's Notes: **_6__/7/13. _Hello, everyone! Thank you for being so patient with me during my hiatus. And I come bearing good news: a few weeks ago, I actually beat _my _half-marathon personal record! ;)

**Musical Inspiration: **"Up in the Air" by 30 Seconds to Mars and "Get the Girl Back" by Hanson. (It popped up one day on Pandora and has been stuck in my head ever since.)

**Beta'd **by **ebonyquill**.

* * *

**4.45**

* * *

Eventually, Aunt Pema called her down for lunch.

She didn't come down immediately, but when she did, she took her cell phone with her.

Just in case.

* * *

"There you are," Pema smiled up at her as Korra dragged herself into the kitchen. "We were beginning to think you might not be hungry."

"Correction!" Meelo announced, standing tall and proud atop the pedestal of his wooden chair. "_She _was beginning to think that. I knew it to be impossible."

The next few minutes were a familiar blur of what Korra had come to accept as daily household shenanigans, mind-boggling and shocking and yet unsurprising all at once: without ever looking up from her book, Jinora immediately informed Korra that Meelo and Ikki had just been in the midst of creating a very strategic search party-rescue mission in her honor**.** Ikki went on to explain, in gross detail, all that it entailed, including the intricate map of the entire household, which was—as everything else they ever saw fit to produce—drawn entirely in crayon. It was all very thorough, and while Korra supposed she should feel very grateful and honored that they would go through such extensive lengths to retrieve her from her solitude—and she did, of course, as well as a little amused and a little loved and a little bewildered, too—the map _also_ contained such an impressively accurate layout of her bedroom that Korra started to think that perhaps she had not been worrying _quite _enough about the importance of locking her door. Korra honestly tried her best to follow the rest of their plans but as usual got lost amidst all the talk of rainbows and clouds and bunnies. She swore there was something in there about a volcano, too, and the height of the afternoon's befuddlement came from the shocking realization that this last part had been courtesy of none other than Jinora.

"Um," Korra blinked down at the center of the kitchen table, the headquarters of her very own own rescue mission. "Thanks."

"For what?" Ikki asked, staring up at her with wide, wide eyes.

"For... planning to rescue me, I guess."

Meelo blew a raspberry. "Well, _duh._"

"Silly, Korra," Jinora rolled her eyes, though whether the gesture had been for her benefit or Meelo's spittle, she couldn't be sure. "You'd do the same for any of us."

Before Korra had a chance to respond, her uncle swooped in through the door with long strides, still in his running gear. It was in the brief moment that Korra was admiring how such an old guy could still look so solid and strong—and wondering what he must have looked like with hair—that rest of the kitchen looked up and noticed his arrival. It was as if a switch had suddenly been flipped: Jinora carefully marked her page and finally closed her book as Meelo and Ikki sat down in their seats, though they looked ready to burst with restless energy—they were practically shaking, but somehow managed to stay put—with their wide, shining eyes on their father. Pema's smile took on an even warmer glow.

"Just in time," Pema noted playfully, promptly shoving a stack of plates into his gut, right as he was leaning in for a kiss. Meelo chortled into his shirt collar while the girls shared knowing giggles, and when Tenzin finally greeted his wife properly, Korra was still mulling over the slightly disturbing notion that he probably had a solid set of abs—and that Pema probably didn't care all that much if that lunchware ended up damaged. "Ready? Set—"

And the whole room sprang into action, of course, because everyone knew that a single second's worth of hesitation could make all the difference between a full stomach... and a very happy Meelo.

* * *

"You didn't run this morning?" Korra asked, trying to work around the half-chewed chunk of chicken rolling around her mouth.

As soon as Tenzin finished sipping his water, he said, "I did. Sometimes... you just need a few extra miles to do the trick."

A month or so ago, Korra might have thought he was crazy, but today she merely shook her head in understanding. Pema nodded right along with her. "It's been a long weekend for all of us," her aunt added gravely, shifting around the plates so that she could better reach the ginormous salad bowl. Jinora stopped eating long enough to help her. "I'll be glad when it's finally over, though I imagine your practice tomorrow evening might be a little... challenging."

Korra stopped chewing, feeling the meat turn to mush in her mouth. Swallowing the piece whole, Korra slowly reached for her glass on the kitchen table and tried to gulp down the rest of her discomfort. All she could hear were the awkward sounds of other people eating around her.

"I imagine so," Tenzin agreed with a sigh, poking his fork into his floppy green vegetables. "This wouldn't be the first time we'd run into trouble with White Falls, but this situation is certainly... unique."

"Are you all right, Korra?" Pema asked suddenly, shocking Korra into nearly dropping her fork. Tenzin sent her a knowing sidelong glance, apologetic. "The chicken's not too tough?"

"No... no, it's great Aunt Pema," she assured her, feeling numb.

"Are you positive? I worry sometimes. It's been so long since I've actually cooked meat."

"No, I promise. It's great."

"All right, then. Just make sure you get some of the salad, too."

"I will."

Ikki helpfully passed the salad bowl along. Korra tried not to make a face. Carefully, she took hold of the utensils and loaded her plate with leafy green vegetables.

"So, any news, Tenzin?" her aunt asked curiously, as concern marred her brow. "I know the board has special procedures for these kinds of investigations, but this is such a high-profile meet. Do you really think they'll be able to find out what really happened for sure?"

Tenzin sighed, looking thoughtful and a little uncomfortable. "The board is doing all that they can. There are representatives from each of the schools, as well as a number of unbiased third-parties. I can't imagine that it will be quick work, but the board was created for these very issues. They will come to a conclusion that is fair."

Korra bit her tongue, but only just barely. _Fairly awful, you mean. _If she wasn't very hungry before, she sure wasn't hungry now. She placed her fork down on her plate and settled for sipping her water instead.

"It's such a shame," Pema sighed, looking at her meal. "The lengths people will go to win. What pressure those boys must have felt, to have gone so far."

Korra's frown deepened. That didn't sound like her Aunt Pema at all. She shook her head, feeling restless. _There's no need to be defensive. Aunt Pema was just making a general statement—it's not like she called Tahno out or anything._

"What do _you _think happened, Mom?" Jinora asked curiously, leaning farther over the table.

"Me? Oh, I don't know," Pema sighed, shaking her head in thought. "With spikes like those, there _had _to be foul play. Unfortunately. I just can't imagine who would do such a thing—and for a high school meet, no less!"

Tenzin sighed again. Korra couldn't help but notice how tired he looked. "It's the nature of the sport, I suppose," he shared wistfully. "Deep and alone in the woods, runners can let the race take over their good sense. If they let it."

"Isn't it obvious? It was those stupid Northside brothers!"

"Put the knife _down, _Meelo. And we don't know that for sure," Pema chastised. "Though, they did seem a bit..."

"Sinister?" Jinora offered uncomfortably.

"_Older,_" Pema gently substituted, making an obvious effort to set a good example for her children. It seemed to be growing more difficult as the conversation progressed. "Tenzin, surely they'll be included in the investigation, too?"

Korra had immediately sat up, ears perked. _Wait a minute, _she thought, inhaling a sharp breath. She only barely registered that her aunt was still fighting her son on the proper usage of his lunch ware. _Oh my god... Of course! _she exclaimed miserably, as her insides twisted violently with realization._ T__here was that standoff before the race—Asami said that the boys had some kind of argument or something! _And Noatok was _right _there at the front, where it all happened! _Who else could it have been? No one! _She'd been so focused on Tahno's plight and ruined future that she hadn't even given any thought to _who _had caused it in the first place! _What the hell was I thinking? _

She wasn't sure if she was supposed to be _disappointed_ in herself for foolishly, privately clinging onto the hope that it had somehow been an accident, _confused_ that she hadn't immediately beat up any and every suspect the instant this whole disaster came to pass, or... surprised that her first instinct this time around wasn't to act on a gut reaction. Was this a sign that she was growing up? _Or that I'm just as young and as stupid as ever? _She felt her fingers clench under the table.

Whichever it was, at this moment it wasn't what mattered most; Korra had a hunch—_she knew with bone-deep intuition_—that the brothers from Amon Prep were to blame.

Now if only she had proof.

"That, of course, will make it a more... delicate conversation," Tenzin's eyes narrowed imperceptibly, finishing a comment that Korra hadn't quite caught. _Whatever—there's so much I have to talk to him about, anyway! _she thought testily, stabbing a green bean with determination. _I'll just ask him to repeat it later, once I've figured all this crap out. _

"I can only imagine... And I do hope Mako will be fit to attend practice tomorrow," Pema opined, turning to look at Korra meaningfully. "I'm sure he could use the support of his friends."

Korra's stomach turned to lead.

"Have you spoken with him at all, Korra?" asked her aunt.

Suddenly, it felt as if the entire table had focused their eyes on her. Tenzin, in particular, was watching her very closely. She managed a slight shake of the head and a shrug.

"Knowing Mako, he probably appreciates the space," said her uncle, perhaps trying to subtly soothe away Korra's concerns. The problem, of course, was that Korra _wasn't _concerned. Or, at least, she hadn't been—until he'd brought up any potential reason to be. She couldn't seem to hold back her deepening frown, and he noticed.

"Boy trouble?" Pema asked lightly, in her perceptive, motherly way. Korra, of course, was blindsided.

"Oh, Mama, you don't even know the _half _of it."

"_What_?" Korra rounded on Ikki, who was sitting directly to her right. Audibly, Tenzin sighed.

"Well, she doesn't!" Ikki eagerly pointed out.

"What don't I know?" Pema asked curiously. "Come on, now!" she said with a soft smile, bright and understanding. Apparently, this topic was much cheerier than discussing certain high school athletes' uncertain fates. "We'll work it out together!"

Korra still felt like she might hyperventilate, and was staring hard at Ikki. "How do—how do _you_ know?"

"Uhh, isn't it obvious?" Ikki asked, looking to Meelo and Jinora, who both nodded.

"Isn't _what _obvious?" she asked, dangerously.

"I mean, you've got a_ total mess_! See, mom—look: Korra _used _to like Mako because she was new in town and he was dreamy, but Bolin—his younger brother—liked Korra, too, because she was new in town and he thinks _she's _dreamy, except Korra didn't like Bolin more than a friend because she liked Mako, who still has a _girlfriend_, who is super dreamy and pretty and sparkles like sunshine and also is now Korra's friend."

"Oh, my," Pema breathed.

Korra's mind—_!_— briefly registered that it was blank. She'd never felt like she might actually pass out before—well, maybe once, when she and her father had encountered a spectacled bear when she was five-years-old—_from excitement, not fear!—_

But there was more.

"This, of course, means that Korra _can't_ like dreamy Mako anymore because that's just obviously not allowed—and between you and me, I think she really _does_ still like him but not as much as before—_but _that's also all okay because Korra is actually secretly crushing on this other guy with the shiny, flippy hair who wears lots of silver and black like a dark knight—"

"Ikki!" Korra barged in, unable to take it any longer. "What the _fu_—"

"_Language_, Korra!"

"Sorry, Aunt Pema—_but—!_"

"And surely you don't mean _Tahno_?"

"Well, duhh, Mama! Who else would it be?"

Pema looked expectantly at Korra, then to an unfazed Tenzin, then back at Korra. She was understandably very surprised. "I didn't even know you were friends!"

"Hey!" Korra exclaimed, feeling her cheeks darken with embarrassment. "Neither did I, _okay_!"

"And _now_ the problem is that Korra is trying to decide between the dreamy red knight and the black knight with flippy hair, but Korra is upset because dark-knight flippy-hair was wounded in battle—"

"I thought _Mako _was the one wounded?" Pema whispered to Jinora.

"The story has taken on greater metaphorical significance."

"Oh," Pema nodded agreeably, then sent another sidelong glance toward Korra, which may or may not have resembled a grimace. Korra wanted to die. Tenzin looked ready to drown in his salad.

"And now the black flippy-hair knight is forbidden from participating in tournaments to win the fair Korra's hand—"

"All right, _modern day_, please!" Meelo demanded.

"—and he isn't responding to her texts after the big race-battle this weekend between the two kingdoms because they _also_ got into a fight before the big race and now Mako wants to be with Korra and Korra wants to be with flippy-hair boy but we don't know what flippy-hair guy is thinking because he's not responding to—"

"_Ikki_!" Korra hissed, lunging forward. Her skin seemed confused, like it wasn't sure whether it should turn pale with horror or crimson with embarrassment. "That's _enough! _How the hell do you know all that?"

"I pay attention."

"To _what? _A frickin' tracking device?_"_

"Is that like a GPS?" Meelo asked, glancing up from a pad of paper that had seemingly appeared out of thin air. To her horror, Meelo was jotting down notes in crayon.

"Guys, seriously—this is so creepy. Where did you find out all of—"

Her smallest cousin looked up, writing utensil held aloft, and very seriously asked, "My dear cousin, as the liaison between your love life and our guardians, I must ask you: what are his intentions?"

"Meelo, do you even know how to _spell_ intentions?" she demanded, eyeing the orange crayon lodged between his knuckles. Meelo gave her a look.

"Does _he_?"

"_That's_ it, you knuckle-headed, crayon-slinging cretin—"

"Ahh! Mom! _Help_!"

"I still can't believe it," Pema nodded to herself thoughtfully, as chaos bloomed around her. Jinora was unsuccessfully trying to mediate what was quickly becoming a Crayola fencing match on the other side of the kitchen. "Tahno?"

"Yes, Mama," Ikki confirmed brightly, as Pema came to terms with this new development. "Tahno of the White Falls Wolfbats—"

"_Wolverines_!" Korra hissed, swiping _ocean blue_ over the counter—just as Meelo switched directions at the last possible moment. _Damn, he's fast! _

Ikki blinked from her seat at the table. "Are you sure?"

"Arrghh! You are one lucky duck that you're not weighed down by the last biscuit because—I swear to god, Meelo—_if you were just the tiniest bit heavier right now_—"

"All right, all right, leave poor Korra alone," Pema called from the table, eventually—_eventually_—settling everyone down.

"I am never leaving my door unlocked _again_," Korra quietly vowed, when she finally collapsed back into her seat.

And if that weren't enough to continue her streak of incredible mortification, it was at that moment that she realized that Tenzin was still there, casually eating his vegetables. With barely a glance to her deadpan expression, Tenzin raised his glass of water—_Cheers!_—and said, "Welcome to the family," and chugged it all down.

Apparently, as she later found out from Pema, he hadn't left their bedroom door unlocked in over a decade.

She tried not to think too hard about that.

* * *

"Tenzin," Korra said sometime later, when everyone else had left the kitchen. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" She imagined that he'd had to have known something was up—it wasn't like her to volunteer for helping with the dishes.

"Normally, I would have no problem," he apologized, drying his hands with a dish rag hanging off the handle of the fridge. "But unfortunately, I've got an urgent meeting with the Athletic Board this evening, and there's still much to prepare."

"Well... that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about," she admitted sheepishly. Tenzin examined her carefully.

"Yes. I had a feeling," he said.

For a moment, Korra felt like nothing more than a small child. How could he still _do _that? She was almost eighteen! She opened her mouth, but he beat her to the punch.

"I know you're concerned. You have important people on both sides of the equation," he said understandingly, placing a fatherly hand over her shoulder. "But this is a matter of utmost confidence until a conclusion has been reached. I can't share this knowledge until it's made ready for public consumption."

Korra frowned, shrugging off his hand. "What's the point of having an uncle on the fancy board if he won't tell you anything when something goes down?"

"This isn't your typical case of 'something', Korra."

She huffed and ducked her head, forcing her anger to the surface, and burying her disappointment deep down. She crossed her arms and muttered, "You're telling me."

His sigh only made her feel more tired, too. "Look, if there's something I can share, then obviously, I'll—"

"It's fine," Korra nodded, not looking up. A brief moment of silence passed, and Korra suddenly felt bad for her selfish behavior. She should know better; Tenzin—for all his loopy philosophies about mental and spiritual freedom—was a man of discipline and structure. It wasn't right to ask this of him. "I mean... I know," she looked up, torn between coming with an outright apology and feigning ignorance. She settled for the middle road. "Thanks," she told him.

He gave her and indescribable look, though it seemed understanding enough. _That's one of the good things about him, I guess_, Korra reflected. _He's so damn observant that half the time I think he already knows what's going on before anyone else does._

"Korra," he said, very seriously. "I want you to try to lay low this week. There's not much that can be done while the investigation is in progress and, well... I want you to try not to worry about it too much, for the time being."

_Okay. So maybe it's one of the less awesome things about him, too_.

"I'm not giving up," Korra said immediately, spine stiffening. "Tenzin, I _know_ Tahno didn't do it."

"I'm not asking you to," he said calmly, trying to reassure her. She knew that her panic had been a bit of an overreaction, even as subdued as it was, but she couldn't help but feel antsy now that the Northside Brothers were on her mind. "I've already privately discussed the issues at hand with a number of the board members, and with the meetings set for the coming week, I am sure we will all reach a decision soon. And once I am given clearance, I will ensure that you will be among the first to know."

Korra bit her lip, pondering this. Hesitantly, she looked up. "Really?" she whispered. Tenzin nodded.

"Yes," he promised her. "But this must be left to the board. There is no point making yourself sick over the uncertain."

"So, what you're saying is... we need to be patient," Korra sighed. Or, more specifically—that _she _needed to be patient. Was that even possible? _Hell. Apparently, I can go a few days without punching anyone in the face, even when I have a perfectly good reason to. _Not that she'd realized it until now. _Maybe this patience thing won't be much more difficult? _

_Yeah. Right._

His hand found its way back onto her shoulder and this time, she didn't push him away. He smiled at her and, somehow, she ended up feeling a like a little kid all over again. She smiled back, just a little.

"You're learning well."

And then, just like that, it was time for him to leave. Tenzin packed up his things and changed his clothes and headed out the door, making his way to the meeting that would surely set about the pieces that would determine the rest of the season. Korra watched his car pull from the driveway with a resigned sort of emptiness, and for a few minutes she stood there at her bedroom window, wondering when he might be back.

Slowly, she turned her gaze to the cell phone resting on her nightstand, sitting silently in the rays of dusk.

* * *

And silent, it stayed.

All the way until dawn.

* * *

**From: **Cap'n A!  
_Hey! Need a ride to school?  
_**Received: **Monday, Oct 15 7:02am

* * *

**From: **Cap'n A!  
_I'm fresh out of Biscottis, unfortunately... but I DO have some dirt that might interest you.  
_**Received: **Monday, Oct 15 7:02am

* * *

**From: **Mako  
_Hey. Do you want a ride this morning? I need to talk to you about some stuff.  
_**Received: **Monday, Oct 15 7:04am

* * *

Korra was beaming as she threw herself into the passenger seat.

"Good morning," she smirked, throwing her bag to onto the floor mat at her feet. She was dripping from the early morning rain, but even that didn't seem to dampen her heightened spirits. She pulled down her dark blue hood, trying not to shake too much water onto Asami's upholstery while the other girl kicked up the heat.

"Likewise," Asami smiled mischievously, turning a few knobs on the dashboard. The radio was still playing, but so low that every so often the swipe of the windshield wipers would make it almost impossible to tell. Asami shifted into gear and pulled out of the driveway as Korra buckled herself in.

"All right, so spill," she commanded brightly, twisting in her seat to get a better view of the driver. "What's the dirt? And where did you hear it from? Does it have anything to do with the Amon brothers? Or the Wolverines? Or the—"

"Hold on! _You_ go first. I'm not sharing anything with you until I'm fully up-to-date on your weekend. So, did you call him?"

Naturally, Korra's optimism faltered. "You totally tricked me into coming with you, didn't you?" Korra accused, her pout grim with realization. Asami winked.

"When else would I get the chance to talk to you? At _practice_? Please," she laughed. "You fill me in on your progress, and then I'll tell you what I've found out."

"That is so not fair."

"Yeah, well the cost of knowledge is high."

"I'd really rather just pay you gas money."

Asami outright laughed. "Trust me," she said, a tad bitterly. "The last thing I need is more money."

Korra sighed, deciding that it was probably just going to be easier to tell Asami _now_. She really could use her help, after all. "Okay," she said, slinking farther down into the seat. It was warm and calm in the car, and as they pulled onto a busier street, Korra listened to the gentle hum of the smooth-sounding engine. "First of all, I talked to Bolin."

"And? How did it go?"

She shrugged, struggling to find the right words to describe what had happened between them. "It was... good," she decided. "I think we understand each other a lot better now. His hard feelings are mostly gone, I think. I apologized a lot, and we talked about a whole bunch of stuff for a while... We're really better off as friends."

"And he agrees with you?" she asked curiously.

For just a moment, Korra was hit with a wave of mind-numbing doubt. "Maybe not yet," Korra relented, pushing her uncertainty back where it belonged. "But he knows how I feel about him, and he knows that it's not gonna change, no matter how sorry I am... especially since I also _might _have told him about. You know."

"About?"

Korra resisted the urge to yank her hood back up over her head. "About Tahno," she muttered.

"Aha!" Asami cried out. _Has she always been this excitable?_ "Really? _Bolin _knows, too?"

"Yes," she confirmed, somewhat regretfully.

"Ah! Perfect!" she exclaimed. "Another ally!"

One brow slid higher. "Asami, this isn't a war," she tried to point out.

"You're kidding me, right? Every forbidden love affair creates a war, Korra."

"_Forbidden—?_ Dude, you're starting to sound like my cousins."

"You mean the tea drinker?"

"No—well, I mean, these cousins drink tea, too—but _no._ Only one of them is even into double-digits, and only just barely—and _your _bombastic flair is starting to resemble theirs."

"Ugh, cut me some slack, please," Asami scoffed, albeit good-naturedly. "It's not everyday that one of our own starts up a weekly trysting schedule with the most popular asshole-captain of the most well-hated team in our town's history of all-consuming rivalries."

"Try—_trysting_? Asami, _no._ Asami, _that is so not_—"

"Calm down!" she laughed. "I was only teasing. I know it wasn't _exactly _like that."

Korra leaned back into the seat, calming her raging heart. When she could hear the indistinct voices of the radio again, instead of just her rising alarm, she was struck with a very familiar fear. "Yeah, well," she muttered, just barely loud enough for Asami to understand. "I'm not even sure I understand what it was, exactly."

Asami frowned. "Don't you mean... what it _is_?" she asked carefully, peeking at her teammate in between windshield swipes. "Did something happen?"

"No," she sighed. "Nothing's changed."

"You didn't call him?"

Korra paused. "He didn't pick up," she said quietly.

Asami took a moment to digest this, and Korra passed the time by watching the raindrops dance along the glass. It was cold and bitter outside, and she dreaded the moment that she would have to leave Asami's car. "So, you're gonna try again, right?" her captain asked, shooting another glance her way. "Maybe he was just... preoccupied. He's gotta have a lot going on."

"Maybe," Korra nodded, not really sure what to believe. The truth was, she had no idea _what _he was doing. Or thinking. Or feeling. Or anything. _It's not like I've ever really known any of that stuff, anyway, _she thought with a frown. _But at least I knew that there was still a chance that I might see him. _"Asami? What do you think it will be like?" Korra asked. "At practice."

"Well, wait a minute—does this mean you're not gonna try again?" Asami asked, disapproval ringing loud and clear.

"No," Korra responded**, **a bit impatiently. "I'm not giving up on anything—I just..." _Don't know what to say. _"I just don't know if it's even really my place at this point. I can't help but feel like I'm... intruding. Does that make sense?"

A sigh sounded from Korra's left. "Yeah," she softly replied. "It does. I just really hope you give it one more try, okay? And who knows? Maybe he'll call you instead."

She tried to stamp down the seed of hope that had burst in her chest.

"And as for practice, well... I'm not gonna lie," Asami puffed out her cheeks, and blew out the air in one giant breath, long and hard. "It's probably going to be super awkward."

"Awkward?" she frowned.

"Mako doesn't forgive very easily, and we're not exactly known for being the most pardoning bunch... I'm sure he's gonna have a few choice words for us about our White Falls counterparts."

"But you're his co-captain," Korra reminded her. "You'll be able to reel him in, right? To help keep things under control?"

"Normally... yes," Asami said grudgingly, revealing the first visible signs of nerves. _Which, of course, is a terrible sign—especially where Asami's concerned. _"Mako and I are usually pretty intuitive about that kind of stuff. But like I said—he and I haven't really been the star couple lately, and this... this is _very _different."

A spike of memory shot into Korra's brain, and she recalled the text message she'd received from him that morning, just moments after Asami's, as well as the hastily-written text she'd sent back in reply. _I should tell her_, Korra thought, glancing meaningfully at Asami. _I should tell her about Mako. The race is over—I shouldn't keep this any longer. After all, _she decided glumly. _Now seems just as good a time to lose a friend as any. _

"Well, I think you've just about earned your dirt," Asami offered smoothly, snapping Korra back to the original hopes she'd had when she'd first entered the car. _ I should tell her_, Korra thought.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Well, I don't know if you knew this or not, but my dad is actually one of the Athletic Board members involved in the investigation."

"_What?_" Korra demanded, flabbergasted. "You're serious!"

"What, you mean a big, overprotective dad wanting to invest a little extra time and money into his only daughter's lifestyle is hard to believe?" she rolled her eyes, but Korra got the feeling that the gesture wasn't really intended for her. "Sponsoring our team, paying for new uniforms... it's just one of his many hobbies—strategically orchestrating his side-business ventures to match my personal interests. Y'know. Just like other overbearing, multimillionaire, post-divorce dads."

"So?" Korra demanded, practically twisting herself into a knot in her seatbelt in an effort to face Asami more directly. "Did he tell you anything?"

"Uhh, duh," Asami laughed. "What's the point of having a rich and influential father on the board if he's not gonna spill?"

_Don't even get me started_. "Just say it!"

"Well, first of all... there's a good chance that this whole fiasco is actually a lot fishier than it seems."

"What?" Korra immediately sat up, noticing with rising alarm that they were nearing the exit that would lead them to the school. "Why?"

"Okay, listen to this: so you know that all the teams present for the White Falls' invitational are going to be included in the investigation, right?"

"Right," she slowly echoed, listening intently.

"Well, did you also know that one team in particular is suspiciously silent on the whole matter? A certain Northern team with two certain brothers?"

"God, I am so fucking _done _with these Amon assholes," Korra suddenly spit, pounding a fist into her seat. "I just _know _it was them! But wait a minute—silent how? What would that have to do with anything? Don't these teams already know the protocol for this sort of thing? Why would they be kicking up a fuss?"

"Well, obviously, this process is going to be really time-consuming," Asami sighed, switching lanes. "The number of testimonies they're going to have to collect is probably pretty overwhelming, for everyone. Most coaches who aren't really involved in the rivalry are understandably upset that their precious training time is going to be forfeited... Yet Amon Prep has been glaringly compliant. This is all just speculation, of course," Asami hastily added. "My dad's an engineer, and paying disgustingly close attention to detail is like, his thing."

"Is this... behavior, or whatever, not really common for Amon?"

"Ah, I don't know," Asami sighed, again. "Coming from my dad, at least, it means something. It definitely caught his attention. I mean, he was obsessed with Amon for ages—the man was practically in love with it," she scoffed. "He even tried to have me sent there. I almost went."

"But it's so far!" Korra exclaimed in surprise. "And... _intense._"

"Who knows," Asami huffed dismissively, though Korra could tell that it still really bothered her. "For some reason, my dad thought it would be the best choice for me."

"How'd you convince him not to make the switch?"

"Oh, easy," Asami laughed again, this time with real amusement. "A fun, three-letter savior called _mom_. I tried to reason with him, then outright refused to go, but he still pushed. And then she knocked some sense into him, right quick. _Anyway_, my dad says that the whole school has been super cooperative since the whole ordeal, which _should _be a commendable thing. Unless..."

"Unless?" Korra demanded. "Unless what?"

"Unless they're trying to hide something."

"But how would they—?"

"There's more," Asami continued darkly, gripping the steering wheel tight. She slowed to a stop at the bottom of the ramp, where a red light glared from overhead. "Korra, I want you to guess who _else _is a member of the Athletic Board."

Korra was at a loss. "Who?"

Asami turned to her teammate, and looked her straight in the eye. "Yakone."

"My—my _biology _teacher?" Korra sputtered, gripping the seat handles tight. Vaguely, it occurred to her that the light had turned green, and that they were moving. "_Yakone? _As in—the Northside Brother's—"

"Father," Asami nodded curtly, expression turning stern. "Supposedly, anyway. It's all just one giant cloud of suspicion, if you ask me. Two top frontrunners of rival teams end up disqualified from the biggest meet of the season, and the up-and-coming newcomers with a mysterious backstory wind up taking home the medals."

"_Temporarily_," Korra ground out.

"And then... when it comes time to look into the mess, the winning school—who should be preparing for Regionals, who supposedly had nothing to do with any of this—is going to have to send its best in for questioning, and they are somehow okay with this? Add in the fact that the first and second placers' _father _just happens to be a member of the board, and just happens to work for his sons' _rival_ team? I mean—how much more convenient of a set-up can you get? Provided, of course, that he really is their father," Asami sighed, making a hard left.. "We honestly know nothing about _any_ of them."

"But what—so what does that mean for us?" Korra asked, clutching the fabric covering her seat. She could see the high school just a little ways down the road. _For Tahno?_

"For _right_ now?" Asami asked, brows raised high. "It doesn't mean a whole lot of anything. Yakone has hardly spoken up at all."

_Yet_, her mind spat.

"But you said—!"

"As I said, it's all speculation," Asami reminded her seriously, not entirely unlike the way Tenzin might have. Korra could feel herself rapidly deflating under the weight of reality... until her team captain slowly revealed a dazzling smile. "However... according to my dad—it does mean _something_. We just have to leave it to your uncle and my dad, and the other board members to sort through the mess. For now, all we can do is wait."

_Aw, dammit! _Korra spat, laughing miserably—hysterically—under her breath. _She really fucking __is__ Tenzin!_

"What's so funny?" Asami asked, alarmed.

"I was just thinking," Korra said, still feeling a little delirious. "That I really ought to invite you over dinner sometime. I think you and my family would get along _great_."

* * *

"Are you sure you're okay? You look a little insane."

"I _am _a little insane. I don't know what the hell is going on," Korra sighed, picking her bag up from the floor mat. As much as she'd enjoyed the dry warmth of the car, the rain and the cold didn't actually really bother her. It was what laid beyond those domineering doors of _educational treasure_ that made her firsts clench.

"Do you have Biology today?" Asami asked, shutting the car door with a soft thud. Her raincoat was stylish and chic, a lovely shade of deep maroon that complemented her skin and was all the more pleasing to the eye under the contrast of her wide, black umbrella. Korra jerked her navy blue cotton hood over her head, and tried not to feel self-conscious as they made their way toward the school. Or wet. _Ugh. __I thought I was over this._

"Third period," she grumbled. "I don't know how I'm supposed to sit there and listen to him yammer on about the antarctic when I know that he's a lying, scheming slime ball who raised cheater, saboteur sons."

"You _don't _know that," Asami hushed her, glancing about the mostly empty parking lot. Plenty of cars were there, but many of their owners were already inside. "At least—not yet."

"Arggh!" Korra groaned, kicking at a pebble on the pavement. "This is so freakin' _hard_! How the hell am I supposed to just wait for a bunch of old, entitled adults to diplomatically _discuss _their way around this shit-show?"

"How would _you _suggest they solve it?" Asami asked, amused. Korra paused.

"I'm not really the expert on solving problems," she admitted sheepishly. "I'm usually one to create them."

Asami laughed, in spite of herself. "Well, how did you normally solve your problems? Back in South America?"

"Um," Korra frowned. "Usually by kicking a lot of ass. And then getting in heaps of trouble for it."

"Kicking ass _literally_ or figuratively?"

She winced. "Sometimes both."

"I see," Asami smiled, holding the door open wide for the two of them. "As I said: _boxing._"

_Ah._

Which reminded her...

Korra waited until they'd said their goodbyes—_good lucks_—and gone their separate ways—Asami to her locker, and she to hers—before she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, and reread her most recent messages.

* * *

**From: **Mako  
_Hey. Do you want a ride this morning? I need to talk to you about some stuff.  
_**Received: **Monday, Oct 15 7:04am

* * *

**To: **Mako  
_Thanks, but I've already got one. I'll meet you in the library during study hall.  
_**Sent: **Monday, Oct 15 7:07am

* * *

**To: **Mako  
_Is everything okay?  
_**Sent: **Monday, Oct 15 7:12am

* * *

**From: **Mako  
_It'll just be easier to talk about it when I see you. In study hall, then.  
_**Received: **Monday, Oct 15 7:15am

* * *

"Awesome," Korra muttered, slamming her locker door shut.

Dragging her feet down the hall, Korra headed off to class, trying very hard not to sulk. For the first time in many days, her silent phone was, well... _silenced_. It was funny, really; turning off her ringtone implied a sense of blind optimism in that she actually _anticipated _a message, and was thus preemptively ensuring her absence from any of the upcoming detention sessions. (Detention: a three-syllable word that spelled _extension _for a girl currently locked down in a rather creative detainment prison of her own. _We told you so, _the White Lotus would say, as her parents spoke of disappointment and—in her Great Uncle Zuko's words—dishonor_. But whatever, _Korra thought angrily, growing resentful all over again. _Great Aunt Katara got loads of detentions in school. She was always getting in trouble for all sorts of stuff—and Uncle Sokka, too. It wouldn't hurt just to have it on vibrate, would it? And if I get caught, I mean—one measly little detention isn't gonna kill anybody, right? _She then tried to imagine having to explain to Tenzin why she'd be forced to miss practice one afternoon, and gulped.) Yet, truthfully, the likelihood of receiving any messages during her first period class was less than promising. _Nothing more than wishful thinking and false hopes and all that depressing jazz._

_Shut up_, Korra mentally spat, pushing past a rather wide-eyed freshman, who was only too happy to dive out of the way of the darkening aura slowly storming down the hall. One hand was shoved deep into the pocket of her dampened hoodie, while the other arm clutched her books tightly against her side. As she bit her cheek and walked, her shoulders sagged with resignation. _It's only Monday morning_, she reminded herself. _It's still really early... He could... Later today, maybe?_

But her inner-voice sounded almost a little _too_ pessimistic, even for her.

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Just as she was wondering if she had enough time to pay a visit to Bolin at his locker, the warning bell rang.

And it was just at that moment, as the shrill ringing screamed into her brain, that Mako appeared.

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"Hey," Korra greeted automatically, blinking in surprise. While he approached, she noticed that his whole demeanor was stiff. Mako looked just as rough as she probably did. "Where you headed?" she asked, feeling unlucky.

"I need to talk to you," he said, voice quiet, eyes sober.

"Uh... sure," Korra slowly nodded, looking up into his very grave expression. She fought hard not to swallow and said, "We have lunch in just a few periods, and then study hall right after."

He was very obviously perturbed. "No," he shook his head, sneaking a quick glance to the crowds of people dispersing through the hallway, before boring his burning eyes back into hers. "It can't wait that long."

"What?" Korra breathed, a knee-jerk reaction to examples of insanity. "You mean _you _can't wait that long?" she snapped. "You had the whole weekend, man. Why didn't you text me about this earlier?"

"I thought it could wait," he explained, brows furrowing.

Korra's shock splattered across her face immediately, but after a moment, she thought better of it and caught herself. Most people seemed far too absorbed in their own little worlds to notice them—_ah, right... Homecoming Week. Fuck my life_—but still. She schooled her expression with some measure of difficulty, pressed her lips into a grim line, and then hissed, much more quietly: "Well, it can wait until after my first period class, at least. I have English with Mr. Shinobi and he is _not _above announcing when the latecomers arrive to class."

"I wouldn't ask unless it were important," he insisted, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"Um, as often as I might normally agree with you in that there are far more important things to be done rather than study grammar, now is _not_ one of those times," she told him firmly. "Find me in the library during study hall, or even text me during class if you need to, but I am on my way to English, Mako, so if you'll just—"

"Korra," he whispered and, against all of her better judgment, she halted. Almost unwillingly, Korra tilted her head, looked at him—_tall, strong, and desperate_—and wilted.

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"Please," he said.

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She had an awful feeling that she was going to regret this.

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* * *

**End Note:** Please review! :)


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